


Highschool Heroes

by CatisaOrsilla



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Friendship, High School, Minor Dick Grayson/Koriand'r, Romance, Secret Identity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 44,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatisaOrsilla/pseuds/CatisaOrsilla
Summary: Still grieving over the loss of a teammate, Garfield is thrown through the loop as he struggles to maintain the challenges of having another crush, his disapproving teammates, and a secret identity, all while being forced to face his past mistakes. (NOT AN AU)
Relationships: Garfield Logan/Raven
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. episode 0 - preparation

_"Raven, where are you going?" Beast Boy spoke in a soft voice, a cracked smile on his face._

_"Home," she replied coldly, "I can't stay."_

_Straying her attention downwards, a shallow tear struggled to fall. But with all the destruction around them, it's hard to see why not._

_Blazing flames erupted near Beast Boy's shuddering body. Smog and screams hadn't quieted down at all since the final fight ended. Broken fire glass and dented metal scattered across the pivoted road, laying next to all the bloodied bodies. It was a nightmare, a true hell like none of them had experienced since Trigon._

_His breaths mixed with the sound of her silent screams were enough to tear an entire universe down. Underneath the hardened looks of sorrow, laid empty shells of all the Titan's former selves._

_The only thing they ever had in common was rage. Neither of them ever talked about it, so obscure and shallow._

_Was it the shrieks of the four eyed Raven, engulfing her heated body into unforgivable flames?_

_Or was all because of the unreal shift Beast Boy went through, erupting his form in utter monstrosity, bringing the fragile city along with it's ashes that provoked their worst?_

_His back was still hunched over, still getting used to the unmistakable strain his beast left on his shoulder blades. Her head was still in midst of an ongoing battle, full of emotional distraught causing her to lose part of her clear vision._

_Yet their steps towards the burning horizon continued, gently and silently. The sorceress, fleeing from destruction and the shifter, running towards it._

_A sphere of tampered magic encircled her hands as Raven's feet began to lift off. Her back remained turned, away from the face of the saddened wolf._

_"Why," he started, "why do you have to go? You said it yourself, this is home. With your family, your friends."_

_"I don't think you understand. No one can help me right now. Didn't you see, I nearly missed the ship and hit you accidentally instead." Turning around, her violet eyes darted towards the moping dog._

_Beast Boy didn't know what to say. For the very first time he was at lost for words. A string of unfinished sentences flew out of his cracked lips, sounding like a song of gibberish to her ears._

_Her harsh words brought him back to the long strike of flesh, still open, running along his neck. The burning sensation of pure black magic disintegrating his bare epidermis was a feeling he'll never forget. The blade of darkness was meant to burst open the fuel tanks in the Dimitris IV not his bare neck._

_His hands flew up to the cut, gently rubbing against the slowly healing clot. Raven must have noticed his twinge of terribly hidden pain as she strayed away further._

_Whilst stretching open a tear into another dimension, she gave him a sympathetic look one last time._

_"I'm out of control Garfield."_

* * *

Flinching awake, Beast Boy looked down at his shaking paws. His twitching morph became unstable as he lifted his body from the mattress, tilting his head.

_It happened again..._

The rays of the bright dawn sun through the curtains contrasted the look of his terribly messy room. Latest issues of The Avengers sprawled across the plush carpet, as a result from his ongoing reading binges.

A pile of off white tank tops filled the southern most corner of the room, contrasting his black carpet. Beast Boy's unmistakable Doom Patrol suit hung off a rubber hanger, tucked away in the edge of his colourful closet. Clutter of darts and animal pillows were shoved under his bed, like ice under a fridge.

It should've been no surprised to Garfield Logan that he'd find a very hyper Starfire at his door with a ranged up vacuum. He backed away nervously at the sight of the rang up machine, triggering a feline-like nerve. Starfire's mischievous glint in her eyes glittered as she casually strolled into the comic filled mess.

"Starfire, why are you up so early?" He groaned as she rattled open the thin blinds, "And why on earth are you in my room?"

"It's bright and sunny today friend. Of course I'd be up early to begin preparation for this school of high you guys have been chattering about." She giggled in response. Her attention fixated onto a the monument of snacks scattering around his 'reading' spot, crumbs scattering across the army green bean bag.

"Oh, that," His emerald eyes rolled, reminiscing the thought of returning to the dreadful place, "well you don't have to be up that early."

"Tell that to Star." Robin appeared beside her, rubbing his neck. His onyx hair was tussled and swooped the other way. 'For volumiostiy' Robin used as an excuse to prance around with bed head. He was already decked out in his uniformed suit.

Well almost.

"Nice bunny slippers." Beast Boy snickered, pointing down to the white tipped ears and black button nose. Yet another guest appearance of Robin's secretive slippers, it amused Beast Boy. After all, he might just have competition for 'Most Immature'.

"Oh shut it." Robin kicked off his fluffy footwear. After being caught in his pajamas way too many times by Cyborg's annoying cameras, the teasing stopped embarrassing him.

As soon as Star hummed her way out of the cleaner room, Robin turned to Beast Boy. Slightly hesitant in his words, he began to talk, "Speaking of autumn cleaning, are you finally going to st-"

"No."

"But-"

"I said no!" Beast Boy rejected harshly, "I'm not cleaning out her room today. I have a feeling today isn't the day to clear out all her stuff. Something about demonic possessions and school gives me the creeps."

"Oh come on, it's been months." Robin tried to voice the sense of reason. It had been after all, two years since her disappearance. The others attempted to empty out her room, only to find a very peculiar Beast Boy always stopping them.

"You asked a stubborn question and I replied with a stubborn answer. No means no. I'm not cleaning out her room!"

* * *

Minutes after his little outburst, Beast Boy was shoved into the purple ridden bedroom. Unwillingly clutching a black garbage bag, he groaned in dismay.

"Tell me why do I have to do this?" He spat out, loud enough for the former sidekick to hear.

'You're the one who refused to let Star do it so you got the job.' Robin rolled his eyes over the small device. "Good luck!"

The electronic switched off as he scanned the dark room. It was odd that even she would leave with all her stuff behind. Raven wasn't the type of person to let others poke around her things.

But there they were sitting on her vanity and shelves; hand held mirror, spare spell books and tattered letters.

The fraying comforters, barren cloaks and dusty statues gave him the same shivering feeling they did three years, when he and Cyborg snuck into her mind mirror. An unexplainable chill ran up along his bare spine, causing him to hitch a breath.

Halloween was never his favourite season. Especially when his unique friend group included a half metal man, an alien princess and a sorceress.

_'Never call me that again.'_ He marked her words at the back of his crowded mind, from the time he called her a witch. Garfield could almost feel the daunting look and flinch she gave him as he spoke so wildly about costume suggestions.

He assumed she was a kind of witch. Like those mesmerizing villains and fairies he wound up believing in when he was still normal. She had the creepy looks, pale to the bone skin and calm flares of violet magic thrusted upon her veins.

Even vials of mysterious liquids sat on her bed.

"I know for a fact she's a some kind of witch but I didn't know she made potions." He muttered under his breath. Lifting up a corked Florence flask, he peered into the inverted liquid.

A foul smelling oil sunk to the bottom, leaving layers of radiating rouge floating in the top. Labeled on the stilled position was a numeric of some sort.

"Odd." Tilting it back and forth he let out the smallest drop of it onto the carpet. A sizzle sounded as a pieces of the mat disintegrated. "Sweet."

"You threw everything out?" Robin turned back to ask the prancing creature. A raised eyebrow was all that Garfield needed to know that his leader friend wasn't eating up the lie.

"Yep." Beast Boy replied with a pop off his lip. He chewed the black currant gum against his gnawing teeth like a stress reliever. "I did. Hey, weird question, can I keep the room?"

"Keep the room? What will you need it for?" Robin asked, raising a suspecting eyebrow. Shifting from his arm chair, he placed down the weekly news to look at Garfield.

"Meh, maybe a place to be alone and store my comics. You know how it is, the monkey makes me go through weird shifts and I don't want to hurt anyone."

"Okay?" Robin was a bit confused but didn't want to budge into his business. "Just move all that literature there before 4. I don't want Star chasing you down with those if she finds out you hid them in her cooking cabinet."

"Yes sir." Beast Boy rushed out of the common area. "And thank you."

As he stuck on the etched letters reading BEAST BOY ONLY, he cracked open the door one last time before heading out.

Raven's belongings remained almost untouched, with the exception of the single potion. Her room still smelt of faltered musk and ancient papyrus.

"Well doesn't that look homey." He whispered sadly, closing the steel door.

* * *

**Hello, this is the author speaking at the time of posting this on archiveofourown. I wrote the first five chapters about three years ago and have not edited them since. I will be going through my chapters once this fic is complete to edit all spelling and grammatical errors. I predict this fic will be longer than 80,000 words and will try to finish this by next year.**


	2. episode 1 - logan, garfield logan

"Tell me why I'm here again?" Beast Boy complained while toppling over the macaroni sofa. It had only been an hour since Starfire woke him up and unfortunately, he was not a morning beast.

Letting his head fall into the frilly teal cushions, he inhaled the scent of the floral essential oils Starfire added weeks ago. For a fifteen year old, he could only imagine how horrifying it would be once Starfire got her hands on a suggestive magazine. The large T tower was decorated, head to toe with palm leaves and geometric paintings - her excuse for bedazzling the residence was all the hype around botany on her Life magazines.

"Because friend, Robin has requested our presence. You wouldn't want to delay like the last time we planned a vacation to the flourishing Bahamas, do you?" Starfire appeared at his side, already changed into her latex suit. Her light auburn cascaded off the edge of the couch. Being the only female original Titans, Beast Boy could only wonder how she got around everyday with the paparazzi on her oblivious tail.

As she mentioned the Bahamas, he immediately recalled the two hour delay because  _ someone _ misplaced his ticket. Had he not search the underside of the T-Car, Beast Boy could still be sitting on a lawn chair, sipping on a pitiful virgin colada.

His summer full of pranks and painless fights with old enemies and new ones was over.

Even Starfire's overly hyperactive enthusiasm couldn't bring him up. The sun was barely out, looking like an ultra violet sky. The air in the common room was dense, feeling like a cold breeze as Cyborg had left the air condition on.

Just as the room became silent, a very focused Robin alongside a very excited Cyborg entered, the metal doors sliding closed behind him. What caught Beast Boy's eye was not the extendable pointer stick wrapped in the Boy Wonder's hand but the inconspicuous tray carried by the robot man.

An astound look was replaced with boredom as soon as he caught the sight of hids leader clapping his hands.

"Titans! As you may know, Cyborg and I have been busy at work on this upcoming mission." Robin began, swiftly tapping a few keys on the control board as if he had rehearsed this one too many times. The screen lit up teal for a split second before entering into a loading page.

"I wouldn't exactly call attending school a missio-"

"Not now Beast Boy, it's not the time for jokes." Robin was hasty to continue. From the looks of it, the leader had gone over the top again. A pre-made slideshow filled the giant screen as the title MISSION #5903. "As I was saying, Cyborg and I have been devoting months of organizing and planning in order to enroll us into school legally. Yessiree folks, we get the chance of a lifetime to graduate from high school."

"You speak as if this  _ high school _ was some dream out of one of those catalogues Star read on our road trip." Beast Boy spoke sarcastically, obviously not content with the entire plan.

It had been Robin's top conversation topic for the past eight months. After Cyborg's seventeenth birthday bash at the local pizzeria, Robin had started conversing with 'someone' about being able to experience school before the team decided whether or not to split.

Beast Boy knew how hard it was to organize four enrolments. Birth certificates had to be mailed, health cards were collected and new candid shots were taken for the teens. It was no wonder Robin went all out on being normal teenagers for once. None of the quartet had ever been in a public school since they got their powers. Starfire was living on a different planet, Robin was trained privately, Beast Boy was homeschool and Cyborg dropped out dramatically due to his prothesis.

"And how are on earth are we going to get past the students? You might been fine but not everyone has human coloured skin," He pointed at himself and Starfire, "and half their other body parts."

"Which is why we are going in disguised."

"Excuse me but no amount of Dermacol foundation is covering this." Beast Boy then pointed to his body. The last run-in they had with Control Freak, Beast Boy was the 'lucky' one that had to go in as an anime character.

A  _ freakishly pale  _ anime character.

Shuddering at the thought of being covered with non-set foundation and contour, Beast Boy sounded dismissive at the fact that they would have to be costumed.

"Exactly why we have these bad boys!" Butting into the argument, Cyborg eagerly pulled off the flimsy metal lid covering the tray.

Dazzling right in the center was a line of minuscule pearls, glittering all sorts of different colours.

Starfire was in a daze. Her hands plucked one of the pink pearls up and held it to her eye, "Oh, these remind me greatly of the bumgops Komand'r used to don at those parties."

"Careful with that Star! Took me eight weeks to gather the materials and I'm not planning to order another shipment of calistite." He warned her.

Before they knew it, an ecstatic Starfire was replaced with a rather ordinary brunette, no taller then Robin.

"W-what happened to my appearance?" Star's voice came out of the new girl as she looked down at her body.

"Give that to me!" Cyborg ripped the small bead from her hands, quickly pressing a censor on it. Her skin melted back into a bright orange hue and her milky grey irises were back to green. "They aren't customized to your standards yet so I can't control the randomizer."

"Then how exactly are we supposed be able to keep a single look the entire time we are there?" Beast Boy asked, gently holding the bead between his forefingers. Tucked under his arm was an inch thick instruction manual, perhaps from Cyborg.

"That's why we are here now."  


* * *

"I never knew you two skeezers had a computer lab. I could eleven matches of Emperor Zut's Den down here." The group entered into a heated room with padding covering the normally grey walls. Pairs of elevating chairs and thin-as-paper computers sat on the desks, similar to a school computer lab.

"That's because you never ask. Besides, do you actually think I trust someone who has malfunctioned my masterboard thrice to be wandering down here?" Cyborg motioned Robin who then flicked a switch to reveal dim lights.

Minutes later and the team had been busy at work, two figuring out how to set up the program. According to Cyborg, once one has entered into the application there should be a panel labeled 'customize' where one could change skin tone, hair and height with a click of a button or a scroll of a cursor.

"Don't these fancy programs usually use codes to create colours?"

"Yes they do. I had to add a separate app so all idiots that can't tell the difference between a hashtag and an asterisk can use this as well." Muttering an incoherent come back, Beast Boy returned to adjusting the hair colour.

_ Mom was a brunette but dad was blonde _

Dragging the arrow downwards, he smiled in triumph at the hair colour.

_ Should I keep my preset eyes or change it up? _

Beast Boy kept the colour of his emerald eyes as they reminded him a bit of his powers.

Fiddling with the skin tone, he finally settled for a medium tone as it went well with his dark blonde hair. A fluke of the program, Beast Boy made a mental note to ask Cyborg to add a modelling feature where the user could see the results before actually trying the bead on.

"I'm done!" He sang off-key, dragging out the word done. Kicking his legs out, his chair swerved across the alleyway, gliding next to a focused Robin.

"Good, so am I." He said plainly, diverting his attention back to the flappy bird game on the screen, "Did you fill in a name yet? It'll help with mixups."

"I'm supposed to put a name?"

"Yes."

Pushing the chair back to his respected computer, Beast Boy typed out an old name he hadn't seen in a decade.

"Garfield? Seriously?" Cyborg emphasized in a teasing tone.

"What, have a thing against fat orange cats?"

"No, it's just that don't you think that name is kinda dorky? I mean, who would actually name their son Garfield?"

"Why don't you tell that to Mark Logan, the guy who let his half asleep wife sign the certificate?" He rolled his eyes, "Besides, I wouldn't be talking  _ Victor Stone _ ."

" _ Kori Anders _ , at your service friends!" Starfire had figured how to tilt the chair backwards as she was nearly hanging upside down, wearing a wink of her face.

"Well hello there Kori. The name's Richard Grayson but you can call me Dick." Robin tipped an imaginary hat as  _ Kori _ giggled.

"Aren't you gonna introduce yourself dork?" Victor ruffled his wavy hair, petting him like a  _ cat _ . The rest of the group watched in fake anticipation, awaiting a certain person,s introduction.

"The names Logan," A quizzed expression appeared on Richard's face, " _ Garfield Logan _ . Middle name Mark."

"Oh, isn't this just wonderful! Come along Richard, I want to try out my new over-heated look."

"You mean hot?"

"Oh Dick, you think I'm hot? I'm so flattered." A blushing Richard was soon dragged out by Kori as her loud voice faded away into the halls.

"They make such a cute couple."

"Hm?"

"Kori and Dick."

"Oh, yeah." A hint of distraction in Garfield's voice, he held up an open book. "The manual said there are twelve pearls in total, in assort colours white, red, pink, silver, purple, black, blue, navy, magenta, orange, aqua and green. I only counted eleven on the tray."

"Sneaky and sly," Victor murmured under his breath, "You are right, there is supposed to be twelve."

"What do you mean by 'supposed'? The black pearl is missing."

"It's not necessarily a problem. When I created these years ago, I made sure to have chosen colours for each close members to us. Bright pink for Starfire, magenta for Jinx, Red for Kid Flash, green for you, navy for Robin, orange for Speedy, aqua for Aqualad, and blue for me. White, silver and black are spares but you decided to choose the silver pearl instead of green."

"What about purple?" He pointed out.

"We all know what the purple one was for." Garfield remained oblivious but pretended to understand. "But somehow, I managed to misplaced the black one when I was doing a test run."

A peak of silence came before them as the two best friends stared at the ground aimlessly. It wasn't common for an awkward silence to commence before them as Victor was talkative and Garfield couldn't stand silence.

"We should be heading up now." Raising an eyebrow, Victor looked at him impatiently before sighing, "Just take an extra if you need. You lost eighty six dollars last time you left me to do your laundry. I know how you always forget to empty out the pockets."

"Thanks dude." Victor walked out, almost too fast to hear leaving Garfield with the tray of beads. Grabbing another cautiously, he took a quick look at the corners of the walls for any security cameras. The only one was currently shut off to his surprise. Before Richard could get a chance to yell at him for being late, Garfield rushed out and ran back up the fire exit stairs.

Laying on the tray was  _ only _ magenta, red, yellow, green, orange, white and aqua.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to paste my author notes from fanfiction.net but they’re too clingy so you will have to listen to me talking about Titans, the tv show, in the notes for the future chapters :)


	3. episode 2 - day of the first

Insane.

One of the few non-vulgar words Garfield would use to describe the Class 289. Following words would be idiotic, stereotypical and of course vulgar itself.

He didn't know what to expect. Being homeschool his entire life in Africa left him oblivious to the unruly world of public education.

On his spare time, when Richard wasn't hounding down his back for team training or Kori attempting to play dress up with him or even Victor popping in to boast about the new Mega Monkeys Saga he got, Garfield would be found buried underneath his covers, reading the many teen magazines he discovered 'randomly' at on his laundry hamper. Three Mean Girls marathons and twenty issues of Teen later, Garfield thought he had a picture of what an average Highschool classroom looked like.

Cheerleaders in one corner giggling over social media, nerds cluttered in circles with the school's latest assignment, goths staring down every late bloomer that strolled in. As far as he was concerned, there was only one goth in his class and she wasn't even looking at him.

Present day school was much different then what 90s writers described. Ironically, everyone here dressed in casual wear. Ranging from cropped turtlenecks and dark jeans to corset-like tube tops with vested bodices, it was obvious the female spectrum for back-to-school shopping was larger.

Scrambling to the near corner of the room, he ducked under broken tipped paper airplanes and an assortment of interesting mouth jewelry. According to his hyperactive animalistic senses, he blended perfectly in.

A little too perfectly.

Sighing, he laid his heavy head onto the cedar desk. He shifted a bit, uncomfortable. So far, not a single person has talked to him ever since he entered, the secretary was an exception. But even with the craze of the class he had, the day seemed too  _ bland _ .

_ If Starfire was able to shoot green beams out of her eyes after she pinned the pearl to her ear, I should be able to use my senses. _ He thought, remembering how Kori accidentally burnt part of the seat of the T-car.

The morbid scent of Tamaranian spitfire crossed with polyester covering and memory foam still stung against his nose. But by slowing down his drew out breaths, Garfield barely manage to separate each conversation with another. Tuning in on the girl sitting near the musty shelves, the faint sound of laughter cleared up.

"And I told him to  _ bite me _ ." His expression turned into cringe as the girl continued laughing with four others. It seemed like there were many around her, some afraid to speak. Murmurs of mixed emotions such as disgust and fake excitement were caressed by the air and filtered into separate people.

It was clear as day to see who were popular here. According to his senses, the stars of the show were a pair of girls - one donning a pitched tone and a "killer" pair of Mary Janes and her counterpart with a huskier voice and a "hot" older brother. It amused him of how random the talk between the small crowd got.

One minute it was all about trying the newest bubble tea flavor - which lead to an argument on whether or not coconut jelly should be included as a condiment.

The next lead into a plan to crash Grace Ozzie's birthday bash coming up next week. The sizable group of teens seem to have a bit of a feud with the so called "little red riding hood".

"I told Belle to get her arse off my lawn. I can't believe the nerve, wanting me to do her calculus homework for her." A voice sighed annoyed. His headache from the scattered voices slowly disintegrated as they began to turn down their volume.

"She only transferred after the end of April last year. Mei, give her a break." A broader voice defended the girl.

"I heard in England, they do their geometry with the metric system not imperial." It seemed that the two only got more annoyed by the snide remark as they continued to trash about transfers.

His ears suddenly perked up as a new voice piped up, "What about that blondie over there? Owen and Avery haven't stopped checking him out ever he enter the room."

"In my defense, he's ripped. I can see biceps flexing when he moved an arm."

"He looked so small and flustered when he entered the room. I almost feel sorry for how many people he's going to trample when they fall for him."

"Small?" someone scoffed, "he's legit six foot  _ at least _ ."

The more the group chatted among themselves about the hottie - someone quoted - he felt himself growing a blush. Garfield never heard someone talk so sexually with the exception of frequent run ins with Kori and Richard's infamous moments.

"If you're so into him Mary, why don't you just ask him out right now?"

"N-no I can't." Mary sputtered out flustered by the suggestion.

"And why not?"

"I don't even know what he looks like. His hair covered his face and he was looking downwards when he entered, Iris."

"Fine. If you won't talk to him, I will." Tuning out his hearing, Garfield was intrigued by the chatter but he knew they had already ended the talk. Instead of peering in to a chat about narwhals happening three seats down from him, he decided to rest his clamoured mind.

The peace did not last long because something began to poke Garfield in his right shoulder. He caught the beady stare of a tanned brunette. Tilting her oval face, hints of spiked strands of blonde mixed in with falling hair. "My name's Iris Patel. What's yours?"

"Garfield Logan."

"Garfield." She tested his name on her tongue, "Doesn't suit you."

"What?" He was starting to have mixed feelings about Iris. She seemed extremely forward.

"You're too hot to share a name with a orange fat cat. At least that's what my friends think." She motioned towards a circle of teens staring at them intently.

Garfield could feel his neck break a sweat. Were they making fun of him? His animalistic sense nagged him on at the back of his head. He's no Richard Grayson but when it came to reading body postures, he was a pro. Perhaps it was all those days he spent as a peregrine falcon when the team had to battle against Mad Mod once again or how often Garfield was sent as a spy in his house fly form.

Reading Iris was easier said than done. Her clenched shoulders were imperfectly balanced on the edge of his desk, making the table wobble slightly under her weight. The overly cocky smile she adorned sat on her face unnaturally. He could just barely smell the iced coffee she had the hour prior.

_ Definitely nervous. She seemed off balance as her ballet flats keep tapping against the floor. _

Putting on a cheeky smile rather than his regular kilowatt one - he had to keep the press coming back. 'Good Publicity' as Richard would call it - Garfield leaned back onto his chair till he was balancing on its two hind legs. "Then you can call me Gar."

"Gar. I like it."  


* * *

His day had been amazing so far. It had been easy as homeroom to make new friends. Usually it would be a clique of girls that would swing by or a posse of boys complimenting his hair.

_ It's like everyone is a Richard. _

It seemed everyone cared about Garfield's shaggy golden hair just as much as their finals. All the compliments and remarks made him more confident than ever.

When he was Beast Boy, no one noticed him. And when they did, it would always be the same comment about his freakish skin tone or odd ears. Media and public news buried him into an insecure version of himself for many years. Things changed that helped him grow up.

First it was the way he'd stay in animal form during fights. Being able to talk in animal form, he opted out for nevering transforming into a human in public as he though it was one of the reasons he was picked on. After all, who would poke fun at a raging green giant Siberian tiger's fur?

Next Beast Boy would avoid going out in public. Any grocery shopping had always been done by Starfire as she was nicer when it came to buying him sugary snacks. The two shared a sweet tooth that was strongly disapproved by Robin's healthy diet and Cyborg's savoury taste. Online shopping had been favoured by Beast Boy as he could easily browse and scroll through preordered comics and video games.

When he did go out to the beach or the park with the rest of the Titans, for example their 4th of July party, he would normally be in German Shepherd form as Starfire and Cyborg enjoyed playing countless games of fetch with him.

Then came the day he decided to avoid the public all together. No one truly knew why he chose to leave the room whenever news came on or a gossip magazine appeared on the kitchen counter. Maybe it was when people started ranking them based on looks or attractiveness. Or when he was referred to as the 'kid' on the team rather than a member.

Robin didn't mind unlike Star and Cyborg who were concerned. 'As long as Beast Boy is focused and happy, I could care less about how he wants to deal with new reporters.' Robin had said in response to the jade terrier that had stomped rain water onto an especially pressuring reporter.

"Hey." A sweat fermented cheerleader said after passing by him down the hall. He attempted to sputter out a response. It would take quite some time to get used to being greeted every ten seconds by another person.

_ It's exactly 11:30 meaning that I should probably go for lunch _ . The scent of blanded pasta and tomato soup entered his sensitive nose. It was uncanny that the delicious scent even existed.

_ What happened to the infamous reputation of the school cafeteria. _

* * *

Although his eight dollar meal looked divine, Garfield wasn't sure if it was worth the 15 minute wait. Like every Highschool, the lines took up almost a quarter of his time which could've costed him a decent seat.

His suspicions were proven as there were no seats available in the gigantic room. Filled with omnipotent laughter and an occasional disaster here and there, teens buzzed around the cafeteria.

It was so noisy that the overhanging lights could explode any minute due the shrill sound of students.

"Gar, over here!" A familiar group of students called out his name, clearly pushing various purses and trays to make room.

"Garfield, look alive!" His staring was interrupted as a hurling football came towards him. Hastily placing down his plastic tray, Garfield barely managed to catch the ball which had him and his heart pounding.

His distasteful frown was over washed by relief as a large burly teen appeared next to him, lifting up his lunch in one hand. "Thought you looked a tad ditzy in the middle of the crowd. Me, Richard and Kori already got you a seat. It's by the windows so you can make bird calls."

Victor, followed by Garfield, weaved their way through the mayhem. Practically running up the hollow steps, they arrived on the second floor where only a couple of cliques resided along with an avid reader sitting in the corner. "Wow, didn't even know this place had a second floor!"

"Only the best for my team." Richard suddenly beamed, wrapping an arm around Kori. The trio seemed to already have started eating because there were three half finished trays of food on the red table. "Lescon is known for it's top of the state art program and extra curricular activities. Not to mention good funding and developed student body."

"Yeah but a cafeteria with multiple floors is swanky." Garfield pointed out while slipping into his seat, "How did you convince them to let us go here?"

"It's like you forgot a very important detail Gar, " Victor intervened, "we are superheroes. Letting a couple of teens go to school illegally is like butter to the amount of lives we saved."

"And what does butter have to do with us saving the lives?" Kori said through her mouth full of pasta.

"Nothing, I'm just hungry. Now let's dig in."

* * *

The screech of the annoying bell rang into the cafeteria, signaling the students to the next class. They left the table in mint condition ironically; Garfield and Victor eating too fast for comfort, Kori neatly finishing her marinara pasta and Richard slowly taking bites out of his burrito.

"Well, I guess that's it. Text me if you need anything." Garfield waved to his friends. Although it saddened him that they were all in another grade, he can't help but appreciate his newfound independence.

"But why would we need to send messages to Garfield if phones aren't allowed in class?" He snickered as a confused Kori walked away with Richard and Victor trailing behind her.

Just because Kori had the accent down doesn't mean she wasn't oblivious. School was a new subject to her as Tamaranians didn't attend proper education when growing up. Garfield's harmless teasing was seems as a way to nitpick revenge in his eyes, after Richard forced him to run an extra 50 laps for sleeping in during training weeks before.

"Oh how the tables have turned." He could sense the waves of irritation from Richard and he didn't need any empathetic powers to do so.

He always thought it was biased - the way Robin would easily excuse Starfire everytime she had to run to the mall yet Beast Boy would get chewed out for skipping weights. Heck, all the Titan girls had slumber parties back at the tower every second Friday of the month due to Starfire's 'loneliness'.

Kori was like a chocolate chip cookie while Richard was an absurd toddler. No matter how soon dinner was, he just couldn't resist.

Sometimes he would envy their relationship. They were the power couple of the Titan family, the leader and his lady. The pair were the star of the show for every gala or event they would attend. It had been that way for years.

Garfield wandered aimlessly into the halls of Lescon's southern wing. He longed so hard for a chance at love. It just wasn't fair. Ever since Cyborg started getting cozy with Bumblebee, Beast Boy played video games single player.

"Why am I the odd one out?" He grumbled, quiet enough to be unheard from the swarm of students. "It's not like I'm unavailable. Robin has Starfire. Cyborg has Bumblebee. Kid Flash has Jinx. Speedy's got something with Chesire and Jericho has Kole. Aqualad's with a different girl every month but at least he has someone. And who do I have?" Garfield asked himself, frustrated, "No one! Not a chance, not a single person. I've been patient long enough. I'm tired of waiting, counting sand into my hourglass of life. I'm just waiting for something to hit me!"

He felt his feet slip from underneath him as he landed onto the cold hard floor. The impact from another lead to his fall which cause a swell to rise on his head. Shaking off the feeling, Garfield propped up his clenched shoulders only to find someone on top of him.

Sapphires clashed with Emeralds as his shock caused him to collapse back onto the floor which took her with him. They were entangled in a never ending staring contest, both seemed to be making a connection in their minds.

The proximity didn't last long as soon as the girl stumbled off of him and left in a blizzard of curses. A breeze blew past her skirt and swirled into his nose, making him inhale the touchless scent.

_ Lavender _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to write a fanfiction of Titans in the form on actual episodes. The only problem is that I don’t have the patience to write 10,000 word chapters :/
> 
> The author notes for this chapter on fanfiction.net were about how much I hated the scent of lavender. I still agree with my past self.


	4. episode 3 - jo not jade

"How did you end up in Advanced Biology? I thought you said you were dumb." The now beach waved Iris asked him as they walked the halls of Lescon.

"Animals have always been a passion of mine as I grew up surrounded by them." He briskly answered. For an unofficial tour guide to the school, she had been almost too keen on getting to know him.

"Likewise. I have Calculus next and it's with that boring Ms. Jenkins." She grumbled, flashing him a look at her printed out schedule. Shoving the slip of paper into her jean pocket, it felt almost unusual to see someone else who would change up their look every week. It was only three days ago when Iris still had slicked mermaid fishtail braids and drank out of an over—sweetened Starbucks. Now, she was into 'Farm Girl Chic', something she claimed a varsity gotten her into.

"Well I'll see you later?" He asked, his voice went up a bit as a result of pure anxiousness.

"Sure. Just remember to meet me by the field this afternoon. Me and the girls sit there every week to watch the football players." Iris smiled at his responsive nod. Sauntering down the hall, her plaid clad body was swallowed by the hoard of frenzied students.

Garfield felt unsure. Standing outside of what he presumed to be one of the Science labs, he watched laughing students slowly trickle in. After fixing his bright red polo shirt collar and adjusting the silver pearl strung onto the tagged necklace, his heart thumped wildly against his chest as he entered.

This class was nothing like the last. Unlike the days he spent chatting in homeroom and English, the class was pin drop silent with the exception of chairs scraping against the floor. Few of the students was enveloped in teaspoon thick novellas whereas the others were filling in homework sheets they already received.

His nose picked up a hazy coconut scent—probably from shampoo—laced within the pungent smell of sanitizer. Garfield was a hundred percent sure someone had been scrubbing the black countertops beforehand as the smell began to strengthen the furor there he went into the room.

Army green walls were embodied with oak wood shelves that housed textbooks of all shapes and sizes. They encircled the room and stopped by the two connected eyewash stations along with a long sink. A smart board was partnered with a musky desk, looking similar to a young teen next to his grandfather.

Randomized desk patterns covered the larger portion of the room, about twelve twin desks. Most were already taken by early birds and small piles of folders.

The incredibly large smart board had a sketched out map on it, conveniently labeling all the seats with initials. Garfield let out a sigh in relief as he spotted the scrawled letters 'GML' next to a 'SN'. Venturing between the narrow walkways of the tables, he pulled out a chair next to a few notebooks and a single pen.

Learning his lesson from the first, Garfield decided not to tune into other's private conversations like radio stations as there was in fact an abbreviation called 'too much information'.

Thirty seconds later, a gang of boys situated on the desk connected to his. It was fine up until their loud talking began to take action into his ear drums. Their shrill cheers and stomping felt like daggers in Garfield's head. He fought against speaking up to them as his mouth always seemed to have a troublemaking mind of it's own.

It was uncanny for him to feel this way. Appointed as the unofficial charmer off the group, his teammates always talked about how easy it was for him to approach people. Whether they were at a restaurant or even a beach, count on Beast Boy to get them a free meal or an appraising complement from a stranger.

Cyborg blamed it on his eyes. The same aspiring puppy eyes he'd used to get free hot dogs from vendors without them questioning why a green bulldog was begging them for food. Robin said it was the way he stood. Beast Boy, being the most adaptable one in the group, had the abilities of a octopus. Able to change posture, not necessarily colour, he could easily switch between the look of a sweet young man to a 'smoking' piece of meat.

Not his words but of a drunken teen girl they ran into outside of a coastal bar.

Starfire pointed out his voice. Not necessarily a voice of a chorusing angel but one of an innocent one. He was underestimated as a fellow Titan so people near him seemed to more delicate and cautious, excluding the reporters. She quoted on how casual yet polite he spoke. 'His harmonious voice has just the right amount of formality to be deemed posh but just the right amount of friendliness to be not.'

Whenever asked himself, Beast Boy would simply shrug and reply 'Not  _ only _ chicks dig the ears.'

Fortunately for him, he didn't need to intervene as all conversations were put on an immediate pause. The attention of students directed to Ms Giver—Garfield read the name from the card on her desk— who begun to scrawl on the date on the lit up smart board.

From the groans the students were giving, something told him that it was going to be a long day.

_ "Victor Stone, Victor Stone to the office" _

* * *

"What did you get in there for?" Garfield nudged his best friend in the arm, "Let me guess, you played cat noises on the gym teacher's Bluetooth speakers?"

"Nope." Victor said plainly, not taking an eye off from his paper.

"You glued all the meter sticks to door frames, didn't you."

"Guess again, Logan."

"I got it!" Pulling Victor closer to him, he whispered gently into his ear, "I bet you dumped powdered gelatine into the drinking fountains."

"Where do you keep getting this nonsense?" Victor exclaimed, pushing Garfield away. The blond simply shrugged it off with a dopey smile. "If you have to know, I was in the office to discuss prior education with the principal."

"Why? Weren't you smart enough?" The pair pushed open the fire glass doors, entering into a sunlit corridor.

"The old man wanted to see whether or not I needed to stay back an extra year."

"I see." He swore he just heard someone screaming his name. The two best friends peered over to see a bouncing plaid clad girl surrounded by a familiar gang Garfield ran into on the first day. His mind lit up as he remembered what she had said earlier that day. "Come on dude, I want you to meet some chicks I ran into on Tuesday."

Victor followed his beckoning friend, hopping directly off the 4 foot balcony-like walkway. His converse landed, cushioned by flush green grass. He could feel his red eye twitching underneath the hologram, processing the wild texture and chemical smell into his brain. Looking off to the side, his suspicions were correct. They were currently standing on a football field, one filled with incoming players.

"Garfield," the girl said, a smile taking over her face, "you made it! I was wondering if you were as forgetful."

He brushed out his hair nervously, making his way closer to the huddle of girls. "Yeah, I almost missed you guys there."

"Who's your friend?" One of the girls asked, pointing at Victor. The six girls, half wearing varsity badge jackets, gazed at him cautiously. In response, the buff man lowered himself onto a knee to their eye level.

"This is Victor. He's my bro." Elbowing him in the rib, Victor noticed one of the girls was unlike the rest.

"Well Garfield and Victor, would you care to sit? The team should be back any moment now for a ten minute water break and I don't want you to get trampled." Iris gawked at Victor's build before correcting herself. "More so Garfield rather Victor."

The group was fairly loud. Two of the girls in the back were in the middle of discussing the newspaper editorial so they caused enough commotion in the background. But that wasn't what distracted Victor.

He quirked an eye at another pair of girls, exchanging in small talk to the right of the bleachers. They both seemed too familiar, one's pink hair and another's insecticide themed outfit ringing a bell in his memory. If their whimsical attire wasn't a dead giveaway, the two were both donning each a yellow and pink pearl respectively in their left ear lobe.

"Nine o'clock," he muttered as he elbowed Garfield in the bicep, "don't those ladies seem familiar to you." Garfield responded by turning their way.

"I smell the fermented scent of peach cobbler and a hint of hair dye under all that leather and chewed bubblegum." He pondered before turning back to staring at the whizzing ball.

Victor scooted closer to the target, examining them closely. Their attention seemed to be focused on the field, at one of the players. Speaking of players, there was no coach in their line of sight, just a dozen of worn down athletes drilling across the faux grass. "Never deemed you to be the one to like redheads, Karen." Victor pointed at one of the leaner boys in the center, a messy mop of dark red hair under his beaten helmet.

"Oh no, it's not me with the obsession over gingers."  _ Karen _ put up Her hands in defence. She wasn't all surprised unlike the bright pastel girl beside her who flinched. "Jo over here can't stand the thought of some other girl hanging off Wally. She's on babysitting duty if you will."

"Jo? What, is it like some kind of nickname for Joey?" Victor flicked Jo's bangs away from her face, revealing humane grey eyes.

Jo clacked her teeth into the old gum. "Joséphine, my great aunt's name. It was only appropriate for our coordinating alias theme we got going on." She placed a heel over her leg before continuing. "Victor sounds techno-nerdy, Karen is the know-it-all, Wally is dorky, Richard down by the west wing is posh, Kori is foreign enough to sound like a nickname and Garfield shares his name with an orange fat cat." Garfield grimaced, not taking an eye off the training. "Need I say more?"

"Why not Jade? It sounds eerie and spiritualist is enough."

" 'Cause that Chesire chick took that name already. Besides, I don’t do rock names." Jo crossed her arms across her chest, crinkling pieces of the loose leather strapped across her shoulders.

"I saw you preparing to put a curse on Jade, Jo." Karen rolled her eyes at the nuisance. "And she's not the only villain who's head over heels for a hero, Little Miss West."

"I'm an antihero, not a villain."

"Bigs words for such a little brain, huh?" Karen looked back at the field. "So you gonna tell them about your thing between you and Flash?"

"Oh, I've got to hear this!" Garfield scooted closer towards them, licking his lips menacingly. He couldn't help but not wait to get his hands on this!

Jo shifted uncomfortable, gnawing her gum onto her front teeth. "It's nothing, we're just getting a bit closer, that's all."

The sound of metal frying could be heard in the distance. The football players and watchers looked around alertedly.

Squinting his eyes, Victor froze up as he spotted a faint cloud of grime in the distance. "Over there!" He shouted, pointing his hand. Garfield took no time to wait and ran off to the scene of action, whereas the rest followed quickly after him, curious of what's to come.

The battlefield was situated near the parking lot, thankfully not many cars were brutally damaged. Garfield connected the powdery cloud and the distinct smell of smoke, concluding with an explosion. But as soon as a beam of pure light soared above his head, he changed his mind.

_ Dr Light! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m still confused as to why Beast Boy isn’t listed as a character on archiveofourown...


	5. episode 4 - silk curtains

"Meatloaf for the lovely Starfire, meatloaf for the over controlling Robin and a substitute for the _elephant in the room_." The green Changeling shot an unamused expression Victor's way, "BB, this is your cue to turn into an African elephant. You know, the ones with big floppy ears, ivory tusks and grey skin. Although you might not be grey since-"

"Okay, I get it. I might be the only vegetarian Titan but let's not forget that five pound submarine sandwich you got over there." Garfield almost gagged at the ignorant face the Victor made when he munched on the sub.

The sounds of munching and chewing filled the atmosphere. Richard was the first to break the cold silence with a clear of his dry throat. "So Titans, how was school today?" 

With a slice of meatloaf, Richard continued portioning his food until he met the stares of all his fellow teammates. Kori blushed when their eyes met, giving a quiet cough before diving her fork into the mashed side dish. Victor solemnly tapped his fork against the side of his glass. His smile dropped into a flat line.

Garfield could feel the usual playful energy dying down. Kori seemed anxious, Victor was upset and Richard was, well, plain old Robin.

"You sound like a stereotypical dad." Garfield finally snickered. In his head, this shaky mood could be moulded and shaped into just another night with five reckless teens. All he needed was for Victor to pick up the signals and Richard to react as per say.

“No I do not.” _Bingo_.

“Yes you do, dad.” Victor piped in, feeding off of the mischief.

Richard leapt up from his seat, hands pressed flat into the table as if he was balancing himself. “Stop that.” 

“ _Dad_ , I don’t have the foggiest clue what you’re talking about.”

“Argh!” Richard palmed his face, drowning into the laughter of his peers. 

“Dick, you must simmer down. You don’t usually act out this fast to Garfield and Victor’s teasing.” The boys almost forgot about the alien in the room who looked more ethereal then ever. But for now, Kori held a concerned expression, brushing her hand across his forehead. She searched for the blazing heat of his anger. “Did something happen today?”

Richard gently pushed her hand down, rejecting her question politely. “You know what? Why don’t you just tell me what happened at school today?”

"Well sure pops, I scored some chick's digits, and Gar and I ran into Jo and Karen after school." Victor watched Richard clench a fist before calming down as Kori kept a keen eye on him.

“Jo and Karen?” Richard repeated, raising a suspecting eyebrow.

Garfield smirked and rolled his eyes. “Victor’s _girlfriend_ and Jinx were disguised at the bleachers. I felt like such fifth wheel ‘cause those two were busy kissing each other up while Jinx was admiring Wally on the field.”

Victor choked on his cold turkey as he shot a vengeful glare at his best friend. 

Richard looked up, unamused. “Wallace on the field already? Hope he’s not attempting to use his powers for something as small as a football team.” Taking a sip from his coffee, Richard lifted up the newspaper to his eyes.

“Oh, perhaps I can cheer him on when I make it to the cheerleading team.” Kori clapped her hands wildly, accidentally dropping her fork onto the ground. She bashfully smiled. “Oops.”

“Ah yes, how romantic would that be?” Garfield sighed mockingly, leaning his cheek on his propped right hand.

His leader eyed him bizarrely, folding his paper down. “Romantic? I don’t think swinging around synthetic pompoms to be affectionate, rather odd.”

“Oh, you’ve never heard of the cliche?” Garfield had a smirk reminiscing on his face. With a quick nudge of the elbow, Victor got the hint.

“Garfield, you shouldn’t tease the old soul like that.” The metal man clicked his teeth, shaking his head. “I mean, not all cheerleaders end up with football players.”

“But they do in books.” Garfield then pointed out.

Victor played along and wagged his index finger at his best friend. “They are cliches for a reason.” 

“Exactly. Man, weren’t those guys that we ran into at the field ripped?” 

“Ripped?” Richard whispered, unnaturally high pitched.

“No wonder Jo was gawking at the hunks for minutes straight. She probably wasn’t checking out only Wally.” He said, fake realization laced in his voice.

“Hunks!” The normally confidential teen was shuddering from shoulder to knee. 

“Say, I thought I saw them chatting about some hot foreign redhead today.” The animal shifter’s mouth gaped, eyes blinking rapidly. “Do you think they might’ve been talking about Little Miss Tameran over there?”

“Hot?” Blood pumped through Richard’s hands as his nails crumpled up the goose paper. Dropping his informative text, he flew out of the room warp speed. 

The two friends eyed the doorway. As soon as the sound of clattering footsteps faded into the background, Garfield let out a fat smirk. 

His fingers keyboarded at the counter, satisfied at the Boy Wonder’s reaction. It wasn’t as common anymore that the two pulled off a trick like that, one that could send their leader into a fritz. 

“You think it worked?” Victor asked, still staring at the doorway.

“Wait for it.” Garfield held up a hand, counting the seconds in his mind.

“Three,” the tapping of shoes returned, getting louder every step.

“Two,” he picked up the whiff of coconut oil scent mixed in with hot sweat.

“One.” Richard crashed between the automatic doors, panting as he caught his breath. After wiping down his forehead with his jacket sleeve, he recuperated his posture, appearing somewhat casual.

“When’s football tryouts?” 

“I thought you’d never ask.” Garfield grinned diabolically.

* * *

He let out a ravenous yawn. The silk curtains were coated in a thin sheet of dust, causing him to let out a sneeze as he inhaled.

After wiping his nose, he pulled his phone from his pocket and hissed as the bright screen lit up the dark room. 

**_11:45_**

Richard would’ve chewed him out if he knew that Garfield was procrastinating this late. 

Flipping open his math textbook, Garfield let his nimble fingers stroke the folded pages. With a pencil in one hand and a piece of graph paper in the other, he prepared himself for the next hour of rewriting formulas and solving equations.

He could see why the room was filled with so much purple. Unlike Garfield, she didn’t invest in curtains, rather let the sun shine stream into her room. The icy moon made her bedsheets glow, causing an ethereal reflection on the window.

The room was stark cold and the decor was cool toned, yet he felt warm and fuzzy inside.

Like a Labrador.

Garfield stared down at the dripping drool on his math homework. His back rested on the satiny fabric, embracing the freezing hug. A sudden arch of a spine and he returned to human, still limp and tired. There was a course in his veins as he thought of the future he held.

Garfield didn’t need any friends. He had a sister and two brothers. They were enough.

But unlike him, he could see them all branching out, reaching for the stars and leaving him behind. They all were more settled than he was; everyone had a thing except him. He definitely could see the three in the spotlight, shining in bliss.

What was he even talking about?

He was _Beast Boy_ for heaven’s sake. Beast Boy used to love the center of attention, being the public’s amusement and comic relief from the seriousness of everyone else. It made him happy, the way he stood out from his teammates who cared more about tomorrow than today. 

They changed slowly. She grew out of her anxious phase, he began to let go and he stopped looking at himself in the mirror like that. Garfield could imagine them as characters in their own books, highschool being their last _hike_ over the climax. 

Where would he be? He was a rising balloon until a lithe hand tugged on his ribbon and yanked him down. When the hand disappeared, he deflated. Gone the days when he could spend an entire day wasting his time on useless crap. 

Garfield hummed into the pillow. He was turning into her. Sooner or later, he’d start wearing capes, speaking tonelessly and telling himself to shut up.

It wasn’t going to happen this year. This very year was his year. He will change for the better, stop moping around and show himself that he didn’t need anyone.

Except Kori. And Dick. And Victor.

But not her. Never her. She didn’t matter in the first place. It was clear that everyone else was happy without her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ll stop adding notes until I post newer chapters. Also I somehow made a reference to the Raven graphic novel before it was even published???


	6. episode 5 - rachel

“There’s something up with this place.” Garfield exclaimed animatedly, waving his hands around his mane. While doing so, a girl looked up and gave him smile at the sight of his expression. “It’s like everyone has some obsession with my hair!”

Iris glowed like Starfire, giggling into the sweaty noon air. Garfield liked that about her. She wasn’t such a downer and acted better than his friends will ever be. It seemed almost sinful, but he couldn’t care less, basking in the attention of his peers.

“Hey, you have really nice hair. I don’t see the issue. You seem like the type who likes attention.” Iris flicked a chunk of gold out of his eyesight. The strands split apart before bouncing back into place. She stared back at the hair of her own, flicking a hanging strand up until it rested flat on her head.

His smile subsided as he watched Iris greet a band of boys with a flirty smirk. He imagined a little snake crawling up next to his ear, burning them with words of how worthless and incompetent he was to others. When he recognized the voice as his own, Garfield smothered his worries under a crinkled blink.

“It’s bad attention. The kind you get for the wrong reasons.” He said, strolling back towards his worries again.

“No such thing as bad attention. You’re just paranoid.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Stop it. Thinking about things too much will stress you out and turn you into,” She quieted down and gave Garfield a queasy stare. “One of them.”

Iris cackled at her melodramatic appeal, not paying attention to how terrified her friend was beside her.

He glanced at the direction she pointed in. He let out a sigh of relief after seeing only a passive bookworm. “There is only one.”

“Exactly.” Her voice sprung up at the end, making her sound more and more like a sales associate eager for a raise. “How convenient.”

Approaching the girl was like approaching a new nemesis. He didn’t know what to expect from Iris and her. Her posture was straight as a stick and the hood of her eyelids fell heavy. Garfield’s fingers barely resisted the urge to snap as his nose could pick up what his eyes cannot - her scent.

She smelled of musty wood and toxic ink. No, that must’ve been the book. Hovering over the book however was a gingerly dusting of floral and a cold emotion he used to feel everyday when he passed the common room for breakfast.

_Unamusement_.

“Rachel! How are you today?” Iris flicked the rim of her hoodie off the girl’s head and gleamed. She clasped her hands together, gawking at the sight of flat ironed hair. “I love what you did with your hair.”

Rachel remained hunched over, untouched with her pocket sized book. She lowered her head, obscuring the view of her face from her company.

Iris seemed persistent to gain Rachel’s attention. She flicked a lock of hair away from Rachel’s face but unlike with Garfield, Iris was more invading towards Rachel. 

Garfield noted the latter’s bluntly obvious discomfort and how eager Iris was to pounce all over her.

“Do you love what I did with mine? I tried emanating your style with your cute turtleneck dresses and ponchos.” She said sickly, fingers stroking Rachel’s cartilage and soon dipping behind her ear.

“They’re called shawls.” Rachel replied, adjusting the length of her scarf. Her fingers braced the edge of the book, hooking themselves into the page when she snapped it shut.

“Who cares? Wanna hang? I know this great place where the waiters served book quotes instead of napkins.” Her words sounded rehearsed and used, like a dirty old tissue or a vandalized textbook.

Garfield liked to think of Iris as an abnormally pushy person. She was forward and basked in self approval. But Iris was usually nice and collected with herself. To Garfield, a pointed brow and tappy foot weren’t especially calm things you see on a chill person.

Iris had a hip jutted out, exaggerating her curves as well as the textured belts she had on. Her goth chic didn’t fly well with Rachel who wore many dark shades of grey but wasn’t as chunky doing so.

On Garfield’s left was a smokey eyed shapeshifter whose fashion frenzy left him on his knees. To his right was a tamer girl who seemed to care more about getting back to her story than shutting down Iris.

It was almost pathetic when an opponent couldn’t care less about the attention you’re giving them. In _superhero talk_ , it was like a baddie stepping over you to beat up your friend instead.

Actually, that happened more than Garfield would admit.

“I didn’t like you as any stereotype so why bother with mine?” 

Garfield has to admit, Iris had nerve of look up to magazine quizzes for inspiration of what she should look like. Perhaps that was why the kid with the southern accent spat in her face when she confronted him with her best impersonation of a pioneer. Her forwardness deemed her as wild, crazy and offensive. 

She left the two hastily, more eager to get away from shame. Unfortunately, she forgot to drag her puppy follower along with her.

He had to admit, he wasn’t the most forward person in the past couple of weeks. Heck, Iris usually did the talking which scored him all his ‘friends’. Iris must’ve had a coffee today because she sped off faster then him to the phone when it was pizza night. 

Garfield felt that illusion of his hand grabbing out for her. He denied the thought of fleeing. It didn’t matter as Garfield felt intrigued at the sight of the bookworm.

“I’m Garfield.” 

“I assume you like lasagna.” She gave a hoarse laugh, frowning at the sight of his unchanged smile. 

“Only if it’s vegetarian.”

“Then I wouldn’t call it lasagna.” The girl held a sharp tongue that snapped but never sunk. 

To him, it sounded like just another poke at his vegetarianism. It wasn’t a big deal but a comeback wouldn’t fessed up. Garfield couldn’t find any words to shoot back at her. 

It freaked him out when he felt a tingling sensation flooded through his body. A flood of warm, electrifying liquid guzzled down his throat, disguised as a gulp of saliva. It evaporated into a peachy mist, blinding him.

_Was he high?_

Did Iris sneak _drugs_ into the coffee she gave him?

An inaudible squeak from his mouth smacked him back into the reality of the onyx haired girl beside him. Her heavy lashes covered her irises. Despite this, Garfield felt sure that her eyes would be pretty no matter what.

_ What was the matter with him? _

This fuzzy feeling was too familiar to him. Garfield felt pathetic rushing into conclusions too quickly with his hopefully new friend. It was a sudden bite of excitement from making a new friend all by himself that got him flustered and confused. Yes, that must’ve been it.

He thought of himself as the type of guy to go heart-eyes for any girl at first. All his past crushes ended in failure because of his quick judgement. 

She wasn’t going to be another mark of his list. He didn’t need anything but friends for now.

“So you wanna sit with my friends at lunch?”

“Bold if you to assume I don’t have friends of my own to sit with.” She erased his suave excuse to spend time with her by replacing hope for guilt.

Garfield must’ve insulted her or made her feel like an outcast. Panicked thoughts flew into his mind, pushing and ramming to occupy the small attention span of his.

“I’m so sorry!” Apologizing was the most logical thing to do. If she was upset, she’d accept it. If she wasn’t, she might think he was funny or just really nice. 

A cool breeze from the radiator beside her brushed the backs of his ears as she rose up from her seat. She got up prim and proper: Rachel was a natural lady. He could imagine her, all dressed up in cocktail gowns holding a tall glass of alcohol. But it the way her hands comfortably clasped around her book and the edge of her scarf screamed stone cold.

She was unmoved by him, Iris and the pushes of other students when she strutted back into the halls. Garfield would give anything to have that stoic confidence.

Something tickled his nose, causing him to erupt into a storm of sneezes. He sniffed back his tears from the sudden burst of sneezes. 

Suddenly, Garfield’s eyes zeroed in on a clean blue cue card with nine elegant digits written on it.

Garfield assumed she didn’t even bother writing her name because she knew he’d remember her anyways.


	7. episode 6 - define empathy

Ever since that obtrusive day, Garfield had started opening his eyes wider. He'd be caught staring at the cafeteria entrance, staking out at every exit as a housefly and glaring in fierce concentration into blank space.

The last gave Kori quite a fright as she was telling him about her day when he suddenly froze up at the sight of one of her lavender candles. She wailed to Richard about boring Garfield to death which caused a ruckus in the tower.

Kori flew around, attempting to find some kind of plant that would break her dear friend out of his fatal spell. Richard, under the impression that Garfield had been telling Kori that idioms were real, scolded him. He was so kept up with his rant that he didn't even notice how scarily still Garfield sat, leaning on the table.

Garfield finally awoken from his dreaming state after Victor place a sizzling plate of charred bacon under his nose.

But that evening left three confused titans, a burnt meal and a green cat leaping onto a private tree to elapse time in his thoughts.

* * *

"To write in a perspective, first we must be able to understand with the character we are portraying. In my humble opinion, characters always sound more vivid and realistic when you, as a writer, can _empathize_ with them. Garfield, define empathy."

_Was the sky always so clear?_

_How can one really know the scent of tree sap if they do not know what it smelled like in the first place?_

_Are cats clingy?_

_Does sweat sometimes look appealing?_

Garfield's head blizzarded with questions about life which didn't help him in any classes. Taking Richard's advice, he tried to declutter his thoughts by shoving other intrusive thugs in his head.

Scrutinizing on the idea of wet socks, he shivered against the edge of his desk.

"Garfield, I didn't spend four hours making a lesson just so you could sleep through it!" His teacher chided, clicking her tongue between her teeth.

Suddenly, the edge of his vision went black, making him zero in on the knot of the teacher's tie. _Now what was her name again?_

Her eyes were heavy with mascara, accentuating how tired she seemed. Her mouth set in a fine line, not loose but tight in a forced smile. Her hair was pulled back; Garfield could almost sense how strained her scalp must've been.

Now what was his English teacher's name?

He squinted for a clue, perhaps a name tag or card on the desk. His vitalizing eyes followed her pointer stick down and down until he was staring at the back of someone's head.

'Rachel' was the name he mouthed, not his teacher's.

"It's Ms Bradford, darling." She was too nice to notice how red he had turned from her question.

How was he supposed to respond? Garfield didn't read this in his guilty pleasure magazines.

Ms Bradford rapped the top of a desk. "Here, here, I have a nice seat just for you. Perhaps, that'll help."

Garfield sure felt like a baby. Lazily getting up, he dragged his body towards the front of the classroom. His face flushed with heat but it simmered as soon as he noticed the lack of attention his way.

Instead, the teacher's lesson captured his peer's eyes, lulling them all into a trance. Perhaps they were just sleeping. That would have been more likely.

His pout tilted into a gleam as he stared at the back of the girl. Were they friends? Who cared. It didn't stop Garfield from taking his pencil and reaching for the center of her back. He didn't reach far as the desks were squished just enough so it'd seem like he was resting his arm on the table.

He shuddered in fear as he tapped a dot onto her. Her lack of agitation make his tap another dot, this time more boldly and firm. With a gently swoop, he created a parable that dragged across her front when she turned to stare at him.

She was going to yell. Most definitely. It was so certain that it made Garfield flinch.

Rachel gave him a stare and handed him a stack of paper. She licked her thumb, slid a worksheet into his hand and reached over his head to pass the stack to the girl behind him.

"If you don't finish, it's for homework."

"What? Oh!" He messily grabbed for his pencil, dropping it along with the worksheet. "Yeah, whatever."

"Also," she scribbled something small on his hand and turned back towards the board, managing to escape the scathing eyes of Ms Bradford who merely smiled at the sight of Rachel writing.

Rachel's lopsidedly drawn smiley face was beginning to resemble the one he had drawn on her back and the one he bore when he left class that day.

* * *

This time Garfield had taken the form of a sticky gecko who held against the railing meticulously, being sure not to hide in plain sight. He needed a stretch to avoid a hiatus away from his many forms. His shifting was like skating; once he stayed away from the ice too long, he'd have to get used to the feeling of gliding on a blade all over again.

His tongue instinctively slapped onto his eyes, cleansing them of the pixels of sand getting beat around by sneakers.

_'Where art thou is she?'_ He had no idea what he was thinking but whatever it was, he liked it.

There she was in a dark grey tee shirt tucked under a purple skirt. He recognized that same outfit from English class, a memory that coined so evidently in his mind that he spent last period wondering if her skirt was real velvet.

The plan was rather simple. Skitter up behind the tree, shift back into his old dinky self and convince Rachel to accept his friendship.

Garfield had been in dire need of more friends. He was sure that the other three already had bounds of them and having just Iris was rather lonely. She began getting on his nerves and on top of that, her schedule was crazy. This left him with nowhere to be after school and no one to talk to other than his buddies back at the tower.

He wasn't about to let himself be embarrassed. Seeing Kory, Richard and Victor chatting about other people they've grown close to made him feel left out as he often fell silent during movie nights and supper.

_One_

_Two_

_Three_

**_Go!_ **

His small feet dove between the curvatures of the wall when he hurried for the tree. Garfield could feel his tiny heart race as she slowly approached the tree.

No! He was so close. Yet so far. Using the very last bit of energy in his reptilian body, he lunged forward, somersaulting mid-shift. His vision was swallowed into darkness until his eyes adjusted to the harsh sunlight once again.

Sure, Garfield must've looked stupid with twigs stuck in his mane and scratches lined up along his arms, but he made it!

He turned to look at empty space and found himself disappointed at the sight of the girl heading off with another, laughing and cooing at their phones. All that hot excitement flew through him and exited his body with a large, heated sigh.

"Must've been a cat video. Dang it, those are so adorable!" He exclaimed, celebrating his foul luck with a kick at the tree and a stomp in the grass.

"My favourites are the ones where the cats scream 'no' theatrically as they melt into the bath.", a quick voice said beside him. "Very touching. I love them."

"Rachel!" Garfield's eyes widened at the fathoming sight of his classmate right beside him.

"Yes, me. _Yay_." She replied just as plainly as before. Her stark eyes fixated on the scrapes on his limbs, silently judging the boy in front of her. "You seem excited to see me."

"Uh yeah, duh." What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to say? He couldn't swiftly say hey and slide into an icebreaker about after school plans. "I'm, uh, hungry."

"Okay." She stared at him, face void of any emotion. "You like coffee?"

"Ugh, no." Wait. Was he supposed to say that? She could've been inviting him to get coffee but he, as an idiot, rejected that from ever happening.

"Good. Coffee sucks. I know a good bakery that only serves tea."

Some would call it a miracle. Garfield went from hurling towards an oak tree in gecko form to following Rachel towards a coffee-free bakery.

He inhaled that fresh scent of butter and powdered sugar and let himself relax. To think that all he wanted was superficial company when he received a day that he would talk about for weeks. Garfield laughed at the sight of a kid tripping off his skateboard, not caring how much Rachel told him off for being sadistic.

He hadn't been this relaxed in days - dare he say, years.


	8. episode 7 - hey kori

_'Hey'._ No, that sounded way too simple. Besides, how would she even know who he was? He could imagine her mistaking him for a stranger or a stalker, thus blocking him.

_'Heyyy'_. He couldn't say that to her! Garfield distinctly remembered hearing somewhere that adding 3 Ys was always a sign of flirtatiousness. Lesson learned: 'yyy' is the wordy equivalent of a slurred Casanova.

What about a _'Hey its Garfield'_?

Now that made him sound like Richard, always introducing himself in a texting conversation as if no one could read the contact texting them.

He peered at the digital clock on his bedside table, displaying a tedious 5:39. How many times that night did he wake up to look at the number only to realize that she wouldn't have a way to text him since she didn't have his contact? His eyes were strained from the blinding light, making him roll them back until that feeling was rid of.

Garfield shook his head and chattered his teeth in frustration. Spamming the backspace button 12 times, he wondered how he would ever make friends if he couldn't even text Rachel.

Unfortunately, on the unlucky _thirteenth_ time he hit the backspace button to delete the remaining space, his finger sloppily missed and instead tapping 'send'.

The dramatic pause ended with a yelp as Garfield scrambled to delete his text. "No, no, no, no, no!" There was no use. Garfield had no clue how to delete texts since he never bothered with it anyways. He could send just about anything shamelessly to any of the titans, but Rachel was a different story. She was a whole 'nother person, one he just met recently.

Garfield needed time to think about how he was going about his situation. But thanks to his lazy hands, he must've sounded dumb, texting her at an unconventional time.

Who even texted at 5 in the morning? The last time he was up that early, he had the nerve to bother Richard about the sale at his favourite merchandise store.

His breathing dissipated as he reminded himself that Rachel was just a highschool student. No student would be up at such a time.

His heart pulsated when a grey message icon and three dots appeared, sitting on his screen. What? It had been a minute since he sent that text and she had already seen it. Garfield could easily strangle those dots if possible because they made his hands jitter uncontrollably.

_'Hi lasagna boy'_

How on earth did she know? He never gave her his number and a simple 'hey' wasn't nearly enough for her to assume it was him, 'lasagna boy'.

_'How did u know'_

'Because I give my number out on the daily. I'm totally expecting texts from random numbers on a Saturday morning.'

He could hear that blunt voice and see those blazing eyes. So full of mischief. So full of fire. So full of... boredom. Did Rachel have any patience? He couldn't tell at all since she rarely showed extreme emotions.

_'Sry about that haha'_

' _Did you want to tell me something?'_

_'Uh no'_

_'K'_

* * *

"Dick, I think Garfield is watching porn again!" Victor exclaimed, seizing the phone out of his friend's trembling hands.

Garfield leaped up, arm swiping as he tried to grab the phone back. He temporarily turned into a cat, screeching as his claws clung onto Victor's shirt. The phone suddenly dropped when Victor checked to see if the kitty had created any marks in his freshly polished metal shoulder, causing Garfield to fall to the ground.

The device landed softly onto Garfield's furry back, making him sigh as he reverted into a human. He gave a fierce glare at his best friend, firmly holding his phone. "You aren't touchin' this again."

"What about my poor body? I can't have any scratches on this or else I'll _fry_ when it rains!" Victor spotted his beloved leader stirring his coffee blissfully. "Dick, I think he's doing some illegal shit on that."

"What, no!"

"Garfield, if you need to relieve yourself, I would hope you'd do that privately." Their leader gave Garfield a sympathetic look. "I understand that you're a growing boy and if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm always around."

"Oh god, no!" He yelled, covering his eyes with his palm. " _That's disgusting!_ Hey, stop laughing!"

Victor choked back his laughs, letting out a small chuckle before recomposing himself. "But seriously dude, what were you looking at?"

"Nothing!"

Victor eyed him suspiciously, up and down and to the tips of Garfield's ears. A mean grin grew on his face as a nasty thought grew into his head. Ruffling his hair with one hand, Victor swiftly grabbed the phone from the distracted changeling.

"Aha!"

"Give that back, creep!"

"Dick, catch!" He chucked it over and in a parable, the phone landed in the clutches of the boy wonder.

Garfield knew he was doomed. The look on his leader's face was inexplicable with a twisted brow and thinned out eyes. They were fixated on the screen, blinking fast as he scrolled up the messages. His heart stopped when Richard gave him a sorrowful look.

Richard's glasses fogged up but it didn't take away from how stern he looked. His leader's jaw clenched slightly, making Garfield suspected that Richard was perplexed. Finally, he opened his mouth and said, "Are you trying to ask her out?"

"It's only been a week and you've already got a girlfriend!" Victor stared at the texts in awe. "Wait, you've only just started texting her this morning."

"Give him a break, at least he has her number."

"Yeah but how can he hit on her when she calls him _'lasagna boy'_!" Victor scoffed, pointing the embarrassing nickname out.

"I agree that it is pretty bad."

"Okay guys, can you stop? I'm not all that good at this stuff. Besides, I don't even think she considers me her friend." He slumped back into his chair, groaning in despair.

"Why don't you ask Kori?" Both boys gave Richard a confused look that went ineffective as Richard repeated his idea once again. "I'm sure she'll be able to help."

"Sorry man but between you and me, Garfield's supposed to be a the nutjob in this household." Victor patted his leader on the head, showing his distaste for the idea. "Have you been pulling all nighters again?"

"Well unlike any of us, Kori probably knows what girls think."

"Yeah, that's right." To him, it made sense. Kori was the only girl titan here and had frequent sleepovers with the others monthly.

When the boys would eavesdrop in, they wouldn't understand a thing since most of it was covered by giggles and laughs. In other words, who better to ask than the one who would shove romantic comedies down everyone's throats?

* * *

He hated to admit it but sometimes, Kori did know best. Where she lacked humane common sense, she definitely excelled in emotional intelligence. Her viridescent eyes saw through masks and walls of the ones around her. There was no hiding anything from Kori; her ability to detect the smallest discomfort was impressive.

It was ironic that the one who was supposed to be naive actually understood feelings the best. All the titans lacked in that department. Richard had control issues, Victor had immense insecurity and Garfield, well he couldn't tell. Perhaps it was gullibility or being too rowdy and reckless.

Kori had a good grip on her mind. Whatever amount of instability she had was gone because she always had a keen sense of acknowledgement. Garfield thought of her as simpleminded - she had a problem, then she would solve it.

It seemed that her life was blissful as when he approached her on the roof, she was singing to her petunias a little tune.

Her fingers tapped the petals like a grand piano from which she played while sprinkling drops of water into the soil. After learning that plants could drown, Kori was adamant that to keep her lovelies alive, they must drink drop by drop. This wasn't her most crazy idea, especially since the time Richard had to stop her from watering the dying begonias with her tears.

Garfield took a double take at the springy alien. Could he really talk to her about this?

Of course he could. Out of all the titans, only she could possibly withhold the information he needed.

"Hey _Starfire_." He greeted her with a weak smile and wave. Her eyes widened at the sight of her friend, prompting her to give him a luminous beam.

"Hello there!" She chirped, feet lifting off the ground and launching her into an aerial somersault. "How do you do on such a fine day, _Beast Boy_?"

He began to see her more as Starfire and less like Kori. Bright, cheerful, dazzling Starfire. Kori didn't nearly sound as brilliant in his head. She wasn't a strong _warrior_ in the tower. She wasn't the _phenomenon_ that crashed into the earth. She wasn't the _prisoner_ of war, the trophy of the Gordanians. She wasn't that headstrong _slave_ that prayed for her sister's amnesty.

Unlike the others, he saw her as the ditzy girl who started the domino effect that would soon lead to the best thing that had ever happened in his life - the Teen Titans. It was easy to forget that Starfire even had a tragic past.

He stared at the rounds of her eyes, the tips of her ears and the vibrancy of her skin. She was the embodiment of joy.

"Dear friend, though you haven't answered, I could tell you've fallen into deep thought." She practically sang her words as she waved a hand over her precious flowers. "I, too, wish I had all the answers in this universe."

Her posture slouched when she floated down beside him, legs dangling off the roof. Starfire's doe eyes moped, eyelids drooping like a beagle's cheeks. Her hands propped her face up, giving her a depressing look.

When she saddened, Garfield swore he felt the sun above his hair set into the clouds. What was once sweat turned into goosebumps on his skin. The air, no longer humid, reeked of rotten vegetation; it was most likely from the petunias Starfire had been taking care of since some of their petals had turned a pasty shade of yellow. He made a note in his mind to tell Starfire that plants need water to drink, not to sip.

But now was not the time to dilly dally on such matters. "You okay?" He gave her a pat on the shoulder, shaking her form slightly.

"I do not think I can converse such things with you." She replied, woefully.

In response, he easily stretched into the form of a Scottish fold, purring into the fabric of her pant leg. His mouth twitched as she plucked him up, giggling at his floppy ears and frowning mouth.

"Well then, shall I tell you the situation?" His eyes darted around the roof as she placed his fluffy body over her shoulder as if he was a burping baby. She continued. "You know of the squad of cheers I wished to join?"

He let out a small meow, embarrassed that it was his only way of responding.

"I've gotten accepted. The moment I found out, Dick was with me. We were passing by the list and happened to see my name up with all the rest. I thought he would be ecstatic but do you know what he said?"

Garfield attempted to shake his head with his little neck squished by her arm.

"Dick didn't approve. He said that all those extra practices would take a toll on me. Of course, I didn't know what this 'toll' was, but I was so sure that this wasn't the case. I reassured him that I would be able to meet many other girls and boys. I laughed when I found out that he was just paranoid that I'd fall for another." She began to stroke his back, tickling the fur grazing his tail as she spoke. "I wonder who would put such an idea in his head."

Garfield let a gentle purr out. He acted along, nervous that he might raise a suspicion that he was the one who caused Richard to freak out.

"Dear Garfield, if I could, I would've checked the list alone. I've learned recently that the squad has a captain, much like Richard, who also had an affinity for his broad shoulders. That is what she told her friends when I first arrived on the field."

He could hear a minuscule sniff turn into a sob as she remembered the horrid memory.

"They are in the same homeroom and share three classes together. Meanwhile, me and Dick share none. Lunch is the only chance I have to talk to him but ever since I-" Her arms gripped harder on his soft body while she used his fur like a tissue, absorbing all her tears. Garfield had only realized she was crying after a warm, wet sensation dripped down his back.

What was he supposed to say at a time like this? Perhaps this was the first time in a while that Starfire had opened up to him like this. His mouth fumbled for words but remained shut and he let her calm down with his feline body in her arms like a teddy bear.

This was Starfire talking to him about Kori problems. She told him something he'd expect her to ask someone more mature like Victor or close like Richard about. It seemed as if she had little choice and burst out to him. After all, he was the first to see her this morning.

So instead of letting his big mouth get in the way, Garfield stayed silent. In her arms, he listened to her shed tears until she had nothing else to cry for.

It sparked an idea in his mind. Maybe all he needed to do for Rachel to open up to him was nothing. If time would tell, then it would do so by itself. Forgetting about his prior questions, Garfield spent the day next to Kori, listening to her insecurities. The optimistic titan who vented to him unintentionally gave him the confidence to talk Rachel again.


	9. episode 8 - nevermore, nevermore

So then he let go. Of his worries and concerns about Rachel followed with a new wave of obsession with his interest in video games. His eyes were clearly strained as he continued to fidget with the small joypad.

His new shining set of S tier armour stood out like a sore thumb in comparison to the dark, murky arena they fought it. The falcon on his shoulder leapt up every attack he delivered with precise and clean timing.

Garfield resorted to a specific strategy while beating up his opponents. Since his special skills didn't require him to pause, he could easily spam them after bringing the foe down to halfway of their health bar

Unfortunately, before he could launch his series of leaps and crushes, his opponent began to swipe at him. Unlike him, their normal attacks required no recharge time so the remainder of the game filled with small swats and slices.

His battle ax struggled to keep up with his opponent's katanas, eventually resulting in his immediate death. The stingy effects of their ultimate skill sizzled as he collapsed, kneeling with his arms clutching a wound on his chest. They emoted hearts at him while his body sunk gracefully into the arena's marbled ground.

_DEFEAT_

Blasted auto aim!

His hands shook his phone back and forth as he stopped himself from trampling his phone in rage. Garfield couldn't transform into something _big_ and _bad_ in the middle of the school courtyard. There were students around him who would easily see the giant green beast throw a tantrum over a silly mobile game.

_'It's just a game. It's just a game. It's just a game'_ he repeated in his mind. Reminding himself that Richard wouldn't buy him yet another replacement phone for the next year, he resolved his defeat by exiting out of the app and shutting off the screen.

The sky glared a bright orange beam at him, causing Garfield to rub his eyes. Slowly opening them again revealed a messy sight on front of him. His hand hovered on his brow, providing him shade as he squinted at the sight of a breakout fight.

Weren't they just playing basketball?

Garfield resorted to Kori for answers but found her in the center of it all, attempting to calm the boys down. No amount of soda could cool down the angry boys yelling and arguing. Conceivably that was the reason why Garfield himself never participated in any competition events outside of the tower. The noise and heat between the group was immense.

Where has this all began? He took a look at the three guys getting into Victor and Richard's face. He remembered being invite to watch them play since he had nothing better to do. The two needed to practice for tryouts, and Kori and him had stopped by a convenience store for some beverages. Then he had been left on the bleachers like a child while she proceeded to lug the box of soda towards them.

_Was he supposed to help her?_

_He couldn't think of the answer right away. Maybe that was why there were scratches all over the bottom of the box._

_So what were the guys fighting over?_

Garfield shut his eyes and proceeded to tune into the conversation. In the midst of darkness and the rustle of leaves, he weaved out Richard's firm tone and rigid annunciation.

"You should really watch that voice of yours if you're going to be this bitter after every loss."

Another voice emerged, sounding much more sluggish and slurred. "It's not fair, man!"

"It's two verses three. Of course it isn't fair." The high note at the end of the sentence made Victor's speech recognizable. Garfield could imagine him waggling a finger and saying, "It's not fair that me and Dick have to play against you all."

"What do ya mean?" This person was erratic and loud. His voice overpowered the volume of the rest but for some reason felt shaky and misplaced. "You're beating the shit out of us!"

"Yeah, we gotta separate you two."

"But it's there's still going to be an extra person."

"Then why don't you take a break?"

"No way, I need this more than you do!"

"What about your friend?"

"Oh, Kori doesn't play basketball, man."

"No, not her. The one with that's meditating."

Why did everyone go silent? Garfield could feel his ears twitch at the sound of footsteps emerging towards him. Under the facade of the _jewelry_ , he was sure that his ears were going crazy. A strange chill ran down his spine when the footsteps suddenly stopped, like a horror movie. He peeled his eyes gradually open.

They were all on front of him. Heads dropping in sweat and legs clad in shorts, all five boys stood tall and mighty over his sitting form.

"Gar, what are you even doing?" Richard crossed his arms at the sight of his counterpart.

Garfield grumbled as he heaved himself up, slightly ditzy from a blood rush. He stumbled slightly and punched his friend in the arm when he patted him on the head.

Victor just cackled and yanked his friend to the left. "Come on, dude. You can practice your _witchy magic_ some other time."

He nodded stiffly, trying to dismiss the remark. The pupils in his eyes pierce his leader as Richard shook his head. "Too close Victor, too close."

"Sorry, man."

"Does Gar even play? He seems a bit short?" said the guy with the board shorts and tank top. He broke up the little pity party with his macho arms weaving onto the shoulders of Richard and Garfield.

"He's taller than you, dipshit." Thank god for Victor to come to his defense before Garfield could blabber out a pun about his height.

Another boy, the one with the uneven and shaky voice, popped up beside him with a frown on his freckled face. "It's not that you're short, it's because compared to your friends, you're short. We need a taller teammate to make it more even."

"Hey, I'm taller than Dick by at least a few inches!" Garfield defended himself, pressing an arm into Richard's gut. His leader elbowed him back in annoyance. "This dude secretly wears heels inside his shoes."

"Let's not stray too far from the conversation, shall we?" Richard coughed, loosening his collar with his index finger. "I'm sure you'll do fine with Gar. He's played with us before."

Garfield grabbed the ball from the ground and chucked it into the air. The sound of the ball bouncing off the background shook the ears of the court, causing the three boys to go into panic.

"Are you sure this guy is good?" The slurred voice asked Victor.

Garfield could imagine Victor shaking his head and proudly saying, "Only the best." as he bounced on the flat of his feet high into the air. With a small tap, the ball went back into the net.

* * *

The game had gone from a 4 verses 2 to a game of how fast Garfield could steal the ball from under Richard and Victor's noses. The now identified Gary, Erick and Avery sat steaming on the bleachers as they watched their three counterparts barely break a sweat from playing.

"This is getting _ridiculous_." Garfield heard Gary say from ten meters away. "It's like watching my aunt's dog chase a frisbee around."

The others hummed in agreement, causing Garfield to break into a wicked grin as he swiped the ball from under Victor's nose. "Woof woof, dude."

"Gah!" he exclaimed, stumbling back at Garfield's jumpscare. The mopey blonde mess had popped out of nowhere to steal the ball! "I've got to work on shooting way faster."

Richard snickered as he caught the ball from under the net after Garfield shot. "Slowpoke."

"You sounds so old saying that." Victor mimicked a scratchy and pitchy voice. " _Slowpoke_."

"Eff off."

The two had begun to square off, launching a series of comebacks at each other. Garfield took this time to get away and grab a fresh drink from Kori.

Shaking the opened can beside his ear, he swore he could hear ice cubes in there. "You know, if you like being on the team, you could always be a water boy."

"I'm not understanding, Garfield." She inquired. "I'm not a boy and I'm not giving out water."

Garfield decided to leave Kori to her own tools, stalking towards the other boys for a seat in the shade.

He sighed, lying against an oak tree. The cold grass tickled the back of his knees and he hummed as the soda opening lined up with his mouth.

Garfield's eyes lolled back when he drunk the sweet soda. The ice hit the back of his throat, causing him to choke and cough up the cube. He swooshed the drink in his mouth before swallowing the rest whole. The sensation of ice cold liquid in his way mouth wasn't everlasting and he kept repeating the practice until his stomach felt queasy.

A fuzzy bumblebee danced around his head, slowly landing on the rim of the can. It shook its furry behind, situating itself comfortable on top of the flooding liquid. He smiled, tipping the can slightly. The bee gently tripped off and buzzed away onto the top of a dandelion.

Twisting the stem of the dandelion, Garfield lifted the flower to his face to inspect such an insect.

His eyes zeroed in on the antennae and the frizzy abdomen of the beautiful lady. She hummed, oblivious to the change in elevation and continued to collect nectar for her hive. When the worker left, he pointed out the light dusting of yellow on the contrasting black legs.

The weed was rather useless now so he chucked it behind his ear, replacing the sight of the flower with the hillside of the fields. Endless plains of grass and dotted trees obstructed the area of the beaming sun.

Garfield squinted at the shadowy figure in the distance. It swayed each step until reaching a shady area, in which it lowered down onto the grass. Was that a person? It had to be.

There was a pungent scent of that lavender again. His eyes were caught in a trance of swirling violet smoke; he swore he could see rows of the tiny flowers decorating a field of spring green grass. A herbal leaf wind with a dusting of musk whisked him away to a dreary December night. Suddenly, the curtain of black fell and the grey room around him grew dimmer and dustier.

* * *

_His heart ached, causing him to bend over and gasp. There his lank body tumbled onto a Persian rug, dress in a cloak of sand and age. Of what he could make out from the gaping window was a cold moon in midst of the barren land and dried grass. The air had the texture of chalk, with little to no moisture._

_Inhaling a deep gulp of that, his mouth devoured the cold, refreshing mist steaming off the lake - possibly from the heat that the building emanated. Though, the air, not misty, held a dazzling sensation of which he could only describe like swallowing a pile of loose snow._

_Where was he? He could only wonder what was to become of this room. Leather bound books leaned against each other on shelves of trembling wood. No tapestries hung on the stony walls but the room remained warm due to the crackling fire place._

_An ember spat out on his slipper. He helped in response, backing away towards the purple curtains for aid. The heavy velvet, encasing his form, weighed immensely, causing him to stumble against the door._

_It shook under the force of his fall. It seemed like the wood was worn down because he had the gut feeling that it would snap in half. There was nothing to hold onto but a flat metal handle._

_Why did his heart ache and his body crumble? Was it the blistering winter that made his knees bow towards the ground? He stepped forward, reaching out for the shutters and snapping them tightly shut._

_As the windows clattered shut, something else in the room chattered. The door! There was something, no, someone knocking at the wood. Who could it be at such an hour, day and place?_

_Words came out of his mouth in old fashion English, faster then he could comprehend. As he swung the door open, nothing but empty space greeted him on the other side._

_A voice in his head shouted. He clutched the sides of his head, attempting to ease the pain of the incoming headache._

_'Lenore?'_

_He recognized that voice as one of an aged man._

_'Lenore!'_

_A tapping returned to the window, sending him in a frenzy._

_His frustration grew as he flung the shutters back open, gasping at the shock of bitter air on his cheeks. There was an onyx eyed bird, gracing the top of his head with its flapping wings. It erratically fluttered about, causing commotion to the fire which sputtered out more sparks then ever before. After circling the room, it sat itself on the marbled sculpture. With a flap of a wing, it situated itself comfortably, contrasting the stark anger of the boy adjacent._

_More words, some fluid and some choppy, spilled out of his mouth and wouldn't stop until he had finally announced something about a shore. His finger waggled on front of the bird, manically acting his scolding out as he lectured the sharp beaked beast._

_But after finishing his monologue, the midnight prophet cawed a line, sounding shockingly like a familiar word._

_The raven said 'Nevermore.'_

* * *

What the heck was that? Garfield was sent with the back of his head drilled to the side of the tree. Cracking the bones of his neck, he groaned in pain from the shock and collision of the unidentified object against his cheek.

"Garfield!"

"Are you okay, man?"

The dream state he fell in was unmistakable. The vivid images of the strange setting was oddly evident in his mind.

"Why did you hit him?"

"How was I supposed to know he wasn't going to catch it?"

He could see the silhouette of the girl in the distance. An arm distracted him for a second, caressing the sore of his face.

"You good?" Victor asked, feeling out the flesh of his face. After searching for bumps or bruises, he sighed in relief. "I know you're dumb but I'd assume you know what _'catch'_ means."

"Ah." Garfield was speechless at the figure slowly stalking away. "Yeah dude, I'm cool."

His sharp eyesight could see the swinging satchel on her hip and a puffy cuff of yet another turtle neck she owned. The dark hair pillowed over her shoulders and when she turned back to look in his direction, he could see her lips gently mouth something.

Of course, Victor and Richard didn't notice and were more concerned about the state of his face rather then how far up in 'la la land' he was.

When _Rachel_ disappeared into the forest pathway, she left an eerie quiver in his throat. _Was it really Rachel?_ He didn't have time to double take as she had left the area as soon as he recognized her.

His friends on front of him animatedly picked him up, each tugging on one arm of his. Placing them on their shoulder's, they shot question after question and frantically panicked as they couldn't get a verbal response from him. As Garfield was placed on the bench beside Kori, he was handed a warmed bottle of water one of the three boys found in their bag. Instead of drinking, he gripped the plastic hard and splashed out half of the remains onto his friends.

They insulted him in response but no words punched more then the grimace Kori shot his way. She turned her head towards the pathway and back to him, shaking her head disapprovingly.

When he mouthed 'what', she merely flipped a chunk of her red hair away and returned to scribbling doodles in her notebook.


	10. episode 9 - sick vic

His head spun at the sight of all those teens. The water fountain behind him had been flooded because someone stuffed gum down the drain. A band of teens were bouncing off the tables and walls, dancing and laughing as if they were in some kind of movie. The worst of all was the trio of girls, singing alternative music on the top of their lungs.

Garfield was eager to flee the chaos. His poor ears unfortunately must've been damaged because when he finally arrived at the designated table, he couldn't hear the words Richard was mouthing to him.

"What?" He could hear his voice just fine but Richard was pin drop silent. "What did you say? My eardrums are blasted because of the chicks downstairs."

"Hush Garfield, we are playing a game." Kori placed a gentle hand over his mouth and beckoned him to sit beside her.

The pair stared down at Richard who kept making weird shapes with his lips. First was a straight line, then an O, another line and a tiny rectangle made from the opening of his mouth. He seemed rather irritated, clenching the sides of the table as if he was about to fall over. The furrow of his brow grew increasingly as Kori guessed phrase after phrase.

"Your name is Dick?" She squinted her eyes humorously at his mouth, leaning closer and closer until she was halfway over the table. "He knows my side?"

Garfield groaned in boredom, pushing Kori back to sit down as her force nearly broke the table off its screws on the ground. "This is so dumb."

"Richard, your pronunciation lacks the clarity. I can't understand what you're saying." She shook her head in defeat.

Richard, looking as if he was about to shrivel into the ground, said loudly and clearly, "Victor is sick!"

"You could've just said so. I already knew that." Garfield rolled his eyes, waving his phone screen in Richard's face. There sat a text message from Victor from half an hour ago.

"But Kori didn't!"

"You're always over complicating shit." He patted Richard on the head and grabbed Kori by the shoulder. "Your boyfriend is going crazy." He muttered.

"I feel it was not necessary to tell me this through lip reading."

"But you wanted to play a game!"

"This wasn't a game. I didn't have any fun." She humphed, crossing her arms and sticking her nose into the air. "Your taste is horrid."

Garfield could see that Richard was left speechless, having no smart comeback or retort to shoot at his girlfriend.

"I give up!"

"Good." Garfield had his left hand on the table, fidgeting as the pair ate in silence. He could tell they were distancing; readable like books, they acted indifferent. Kori seemed awfully relaxed, sipping her water quietly, and Richard just continued to scribble messy notes while he munched on a salad. Was this the beginning of their downfall?

He couldn't imagine it. Perhaps he was overreacting but he'd rather have that over the two of them separated.

It was apparent that they had nothing to talk about, so he decided to change the subject. "Did you know that if you have water spilt over your crotch, the teacher will let you skip?" He asked spontaneously, grabbing his friend's pen so he had no choice but to respond.

"You _skipped_ class?" Richard snapped, forgetting about his pen automatically.

Kori questioned him in great interest, "So if I spill water, I am able to skip class? I do think my history quiz is going to trouble my grades next period."

Richard knocked him on the shoulder for putting that idea in her head and scolded, "Kori, don't do it. It's immoral and it doesn't even work."

Garfield placed land mines where Richard was heading. Treading carefully, he casually added, "Oh, I know it does."

"You're joking around."

"Nope," he said with a click of his tongue, "I can even prove it."

"Do it."

Grabbing Kori's bottle, he chucked some water at Richard, wetting the bottom of his shirt and pants. He slammed the bottle back down, launching into a full sprint as Richard stared in horror.

"Fuck you!" Kori gasped at the sound of Richard swearing.

Garfield imagined how pissed off Richard must've felt, being fooled that easily. It was too satisfying ticking him off. Swiftly jumping down the stairs three at a time, he let out a breathy laugh which ended quickly as Richard came running towards him.

"Shit." He muttered, swinging himself around the railing of the stairs and off towards another table.

The air and the sound bounced off him as Garfield darted around, avoiding the fatal hands of his friend. An idea suddenly sparked his mind. Ignoring the possibility that people could've been watching him, he dashed to a lunch table where three neighbourly faces sat.

Head diving behind the table, he thumped the center of his chest. The exhilaration was apparent in the beating of his heart and small, fast breaths he kept taking. Tucking his form into a tight ball, he relaxed behind the table.

"Want me to cover for you?" Someone whispered into his ear.

He nodded, tucked inside his body. The scent of Karen eventually subsided, making him sigh in relief.

Garfield heard her in the distance, frantically dragging Richard's attention away to Garth, who he presumed was Aqualad because who else would be dorky enough to be called 'Garth'. He made a mental note to tease his fishy friend about his unfortunate pant split in music. As quoted from Karen, "He had the audacity to sit on a music stand! A damn music stand!"

Much to his delight when he poked his head up, Garfield was greeted with the sight of an annoyed Jo and confused Wally staring back at him.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Letting out a mischievous grin, Garfield knelt against the table. He took this time to study their appearances. It had been a while since he had seen Wally up close and it seemed that Jo had no hesitation when it came to shaking things up.

Wally, donning a burgundy cardigan and black undershirt on his top half, was ecstatic as soon as he recognized Garfield. "It's great to see you again, Gar. I honestly didn't recognize you until I saw that fang of yours."

"Really? It's still there?"

"Duh." Wally slid a thin piece of paper towards him, flashing a gentleman smile. "So what do you want to order?"

"Order? This isn't a restaurant." Picking up the 'menu', Garfield could recognize the print out from online on the school website.

Jo shook her head and groaned. "I'm not getting you food again, Wally."

"Why not? You did it yesterday."

"That was because you told me you sprained your ankle, which was obviously a lie."

"Can't you do it again?"

"Screw you!" She turned a blind eye away and threw her feet onto the table. The chair tipped over at the imbalance as she pushed her pointed boots into Wally's face. He howled in laughter as she tipped over gracefully and landed on her side. "I'm going to break your legs if you keep this up."

"Don't forget who runs you to school, m'lady." Wally said as he held out a helping hand. Jo reluctantly took it, but not before flicking him in the head.

"You guys are too cute." Garfield gagged at the sight of the Wally affectionately holding his pink haired girlfriend. She blew a raspberry back at him.

Wally raised an eyebrow. "You're only saying that because Dick and Kori are acting up."

"They were fighting over lip reading! It's so stupid." The pair hummed in agreement.

Garfield close his eyes and placed his head on the table. Spilling that water was all for Kori surprisingly. He couldn't stand the thought of the two getting upset, especially after what happened up on the roof.

'How was Kori doing?' He thought about that cheerleading captain who sought after Richard's shoulders. It made him relieved that he didn't have to worry about a girlfriend unlike his friends. Though, having someone to talk to all the time would've been nice.

Reminding himself of Rachel, Garfield listened in on his surroundings, weaving through all sorts of voices and sounds. A heavy cough and clicking of keys came from the right. To his left, there must've been a group of band members because he could hear one of them tuning their violin. But right in front of him was a maze of shouts, clacks and conversations. It had a weakening effect on his mind as he stumbled to find words to describe the areas around him.

Why was he listening in again? To find Rachel of course, but how could he find someone who likes peace and quiet by listening?

He had prided in remembering how serene she looked back at the quiet bakery. Her posture relaxed as soon as they walked in and were greeted by the sight of quiet customers. Some reading, some drinking and some typing, they all lounged around, soaking up the afternoon sun streaming through the windows.

She must've liked it like that. He didn't of course but her constant small talk with him kept him from going berserk.

Thus, he couldn't be able to find Rachel by listening. He doubted she was talking or hanging around a crowded area in the first place.

_Wait!_ A lightbulb lit up in his mind. If she seemingly strayed away from noise, perhaps he could listen for the muted areas of the cafeteria!

He had never tried it before. In missions, his exceptional hearing was called for when the team needed to locate or recognize a sound. Garfield's ability to isolate specific sounds grew phenomenal, especially after their villains began to don disguises. But with crafty thinking, if he separated all the areas from each other, he would be able to come up with a general idea of where she would be.

He knew that she wouldn't be to his left because of the field instruments dotted around the tables. The front was ruled out because of the haphazard energy bubbling in the most populated area of the cafeteria. To his right were a cluster of conversations, he concluded from the messy and random sounds he kept hearing about.

The only option was up. He pointed his eyes above his head where a ceiling hung, carrying lonely Kori and her water bottle. The four sat in the middle of the second level, leaning towards the left. There were footsteps to the right from a dance crew practicing a noisy routine. But as his eyes trailed forward, he wondered who hung around the other side. After all, the floors of the second level bordered around the entire lower room which meant there had to be people furthest from the stairs.

His ears twitched under his disguise; _nothing could be heard._

* * *

"So what did you do after that?" Victor sniffed back a sneeze, wiping his runny nose into his sleeve. "Did ya' serenade her?"

"I found her in the corner at a table alone. I think she was reading something inappropriate because she wouldn't let me see the book." Garfield pondered into the walls of Victor's rooms. The echoes bounced off the sides, causing Victor to yip up and sneeze.

Garfield slid the necklace off with one hand, transforming back to his old self as he carefully placed the silver onto a metal working bench. Grabbing the peony dressed tissue box, he held out a supportive hand while his friend blew his nose.

Victor thanked him with a small smile before groggily lying back down on the metal table. His parts clattered at the contact of the surface, sending him into another sneezing fit which filled the room.

If Victor wasn't so sick, Garfield would've pulled out his phone to record the phenomenon as Richard's new ringtone!

Joking aside, Garfield worried for his friend. Victor was too self aware and immersed in medicine to fall sick to a simple cold, especially since many of his internal organs were advanced with manmade parts. Perhaps he caught a bug from another peer in school; this seemed like the only logical explanation.

"Dude, how did you get so sick?" Victor gave him a snort at his question.

"What, I'm not allowed to get sick or somethin'?" He knocked against his chest, "This is still human."

"Yeah but you getting sick is like Dick slacking off. Impossible!" Garfield waved his hands in the air wildly, animating his frustrations through a series of gestures. "It's, it's... what do you call something that is the opposite of what you think should happen?"

"Irony?"

"Yes, irony! It's irony."

"You mean ironic." It was a relief that Victor's deadbeat sarcasm hadn't lost its effect through sickness.

"Ironic, smonic, it doesn't matter." Garfield leaped onto the 'bed', flinching was the metal table's wheels jilted around. He knocked a fist, testing the hardness of his friend's choice of slumber. "Don't you have a bed?"

Victor glanced at him through puffy, red eyes. "Yeah, man." He heaved himself off, sniffing into another tissue. With a click of a button on one of the legs, the table hand flipped around, revealing a half cushioned mattress.

"Sweet." Garfield relaxed onto the surface after Victor laid down. "So why are you so sick?"

"If I don't answer, will you keep bugging me?"

Garfield gave him a sly look, easing himself onto his stomach before saying, "Abso-freakin-lutely."

" 'Kay but you gotta change into something. The weird faces you make creep the heck out of me." He nodded in approval as Garfield seemingly sunk into the form of a chickadee. His finger reached out to stroke Garfield's small round head, giving it light taps until his friend let out a small chirp. "That's cute. Now I can call you birdbrain too."

The green bird gave him a peck in the hand and caught the chance to walk up Victor's arm, finally reaching the height of his shoulder.

The view of the room felt like a science fiction novel. His beady eyes flickered under the afternoon sun that flooded the room. As if they were rivers, light slid down the cabinets and monitors, curving and bending at every turn and jut. Some could the time of day quite romantic for it had transformed the steel cold room into a nostalgic office on front of Garfield's eyes. Had it not been for the metal man's loud sniffing beside his body, Garfield could've snuggle up and fell asleep with his feet tucked into his feathers.

The flush on Victor's face bled through his deep skin, appearing shallow and subtle. It swept like a blanket over the bridge of his nose, fading into the high points of his cheek. Seeing his friend from this close up, Garfield noted the droopy eye he donned while staring at the palm of his hand.

He seemed deep in thought, gazing his hand as if he were a prophet. A sudden thought must've spark his head because his cheek grew ruddier by the second.

Garfield let out a meek chirp, waking up the ill from his lost thoughts. Victor hummed in odd agreement, interrupting the reticence with a laugh. Unlike the ones he would give when Garfield screwed up a prank or a plan would backfire on his leader, this held rancorous taste. It began quietly and grew to a high where it soon fell down, tumbling into a slice of silence.

Chilling, indeed. The air brushing against Garfield's beak halted as his friend held back a breath.

"I thought the whole new kid thing was a hoax. Honestly, I'm my head, it was over exaggerated bullshit. Making friends shouldn't be that hard. I'm not that out of the ordinary, am I?"

His face seemed huge as he turned to stare at Garfield for an answer. The shifter shook his head, rocking his entire body while doing so.

"I'm smart. I get good grades and I don't cause trouble. I play sports and I have a decent eye for design. I thought I was pretty rounded out. I couldn't get anyone to talk to me on the first day. All I had was Karen and Jo who aren't even in my grade." His eyelid fell shut when he slid off the wall and into a lying position. "My bio partner refused to talk to me because she thought I had a player streak. It felt horrible having to explain to her that I wasn't trying to hit on her."

There was a time and place for tears. Garfield had only seen Victor cry twice before. The first had been when he finally mastered the 'perfect' chocolate soufflé. The most recent was from an infamous prank; Garfield had shoved black pepper into an aerosol can.

But genuine tears, ones of sadness, were a rare occurrence for the two older boys in the tower. Richard kept his high strung emotions to himself but Victor rarely got upset to the point of shedding tears.

"Well, I've been trying to join a bunch of clubs lately. I've signed up for robotics, basketball, football and even the competitive science team. I'm too used to be one of a kind; on our team, everyone has a different role. But here, there's people who share bits with you that you can't help but feel shitty about. No one relies on me and I can't rely on anyone."

In the form of a chickadee, Garfield's eyes were attentive of the trickling tears welling into the bottom lid of Victor's eye. But once the tears stopped forming, they seeped away. It was as if the tears themselves were too hesitant to fall.

"I got this mean cold because some boys thought it would've been funny if they poured ice down my back after today's practice." With a heavy sniff and a wipe of the nose, Victor spoke up. "Ah, enough about me." He plucked Garfield up with his finger, lifting the elfin bird up to his face. "So tell me about this Rachel."

The animal hopped off his finger, fluttering down to the tiled floor. It shimmied it's body until Beast Boy emerged.

He cupped his chin with his hand, thinking about the girl of subject. He leaned on one foot, swaying side to side as he reminisced "Well she wears a fuck ton of black. And grey. And purple. Maybe even burgundy when she's feeling risky."

"So she's goth?"

"Maybe. But she's also really sophisticated. She looks more just dark rather goth. Like a slinky cat."

"Is she nice?"

"I don't really know. She's nice to me but at the same time, she's sarcastic. I can't tell when she isn't being serious sometimes." He leaned into his arms which were propping up his head while he lost himself in his memories. "I don't mind though."

Victor sniffed, wiping his nose into another tissue. "You've ever seen her with other people?"

"No, just this girl. But they don't get along too well."

"So you're special, huh?" Victor patted a hand on Garfield's back, drowsily laughing into empty space. "That's my boy, being a ladies' man!"

"I've never been a ladies' man, dude. You better go to sleep." Garfield reaches a hand towards his friend's forehead, pressing his fingers into the burning skin. "You always say stupid shit when you aren't fully conscious."

"But you've matured so much! You just don't see how different you are now."

"My vision is perfectly fine."

"Nuh uh. You need your eyes checked because you are blind as can be."

"Whatever." Garfield huffed, hands twitching against the railing of the makeshift bed. Had Victor not been sick, he would've left the annoyance alone.

"You like her." He slurred his Rs as he swayed his head side to side. A dopey smile fell onto Victor's face as he teased Garfield. "You two should go on cutesy dates and watch the romantic sunset because you're in love!"

The shifter rolled his eyes, pushing Victor back into the bed. Tugging a fallen quilt from the ground onto Victor's body, Garfield gently waved a hand over his friend's eyes. "I can feel the heat from here. You should get some rest before you tell me to kiss Richard or something."

"I'm not the one who's crazy, man." Settling deeper into the quilt, Victor let out a final yawn. "You are."

"Goodnight, dude."


	11. episode 10 -

The sky in the west side of Jump City was always a shimmering blue. Even when rain plundered down for what seemed like years, Garfield always noted how scarce the clouds would be as if they were sorry for blanketing the sapphire sky. He took the clarity of the seaside for granted, focusing on his phone whenever car rides struck them mandatory.

On the other hand, the west wasn't much to look at. The packed and filthy central of the city lacked blue, green and yellow, instead filled with thousands of bodies shuffling around each day. It was rather ugly to Garfield to see such an urban sight.

He wouldn't fare well in a crowded residential area. It would be too loud to concentrate, too closed in to soar, too reckless to shrink and too tight to grow. Herding all those pedestrians away mid-battle would be like scraping rice grains into a single sandwich bag. The stupid grains would fall out and Garfield would groaned in frustration, but that would turn into a dozen people flying to their immediate death just because they slipped through his nimble hands.

It hurt his head just thinking about battling it out in a major intersection.

Garfield gave a few taps to his skull, under the impression that it would sooth the doozy stress it rode.

_Now where was he?_

Oh yes, the sky was bluer in the west. Sand in the west was soft yellow and gritty under his toes whenever he ran around the shore. In the east, sand was minimal and replaced by the cigarette butts dotting the grimy road like first snow on a black deck.

The pungent scent of car kept rattling his mind. Almost like a needle stabbing into silken fabric, the sharp smell ripped away those images of coastal sunsets and urban nights. Reminding himself that he was still in a car, Garfield shifted his body over, flipping himself so he faced his teammates.

Victor kept shrilling to the static beat of the stereo, shaking the walls of the car until the side of Garfield's cheek turned numb. The car seat covered most of his pompously singing friend but Victor's index finger could still be seen, waggling and wiggling to the sound of old cartoon themes. As if the driver was the conductor, shotgun would be the waving stick thingy a hyper conductor would be thrashing around.

He couldn't remember the name of that stick, but Garfield always spotted them in the centre of the orchestra. Shotgun Richard had his left leg propped up onto his knee, bouncing up and down to the beat that swung around the car. Every time the T-Car met face to face with a red light, Victor would stop for a mini upper half dance break. In which afterwards, Richard would bark "drive" at the green light because Victor always danced with his eyes closed.

Kori resided on the seat cushion to his right. Her delicate posture swerved from side to side as the car made turns, left and right. Underneath the heavy hood of her eyelids were glassy jewels slowly dimming as she dozed off into a light sleep. It was not until Garfield's spotted a particularly large turn that he decided to shake her awake before she banged her head against the window.

He shriveled back at her disappointed shake of the head. When she began to hum along to the melody, Garfield decided to pull out his handy ear plugs.

They weren't as effective but when paired with the kitty eye mask he stole from Starfire, two of his most powerful senses were masked off. The muted noises and sheet of warm darkness comforted him, giving him the illusion of a warm summer's night dream.

* * *

Sometimes, Garfield closed his eyes in hopes that his beast wouldn't peek through. The heightened smell, sharp eyes, profound hearing and emotional awareness were gifts bestowed from that fateful day, in compensation for the monster gurgling underneath him. When the beast arose, Garfield would feel a fuzzy sensation tickling the back of his eyes until it almost felt like something was peeling his control away.

Despite not remembering much from his midnight escapades, Garfield would always recall the filthy touch of coarse fur along the edges of his finger tips. Of course he never told Robin about this. Even Garfield himself never found out about what happened behind the citrine eyes which haunted his soul on the days he'd hear on the news 'This just in, ominous ten foot shadow lurks the local library by Potus Avenue.'

He would never hear this monstrosity's roar as it had gone dormant a year ago, but once in a while, his eyes would go glassy yellow and his hearing would become swallowed.

Then he'd hear another growl, this one matching almost too perfectly with his own. It would coax him behind his left ear, circling counterclockwise to his right, where heavy breathing would shoot him back into his memories.

* * *

_The sewers were dimly lit by the crescent moon dancing along the city. It fell through the cracks of the system's gates, casting a striped pattern along his burly arms as he scoured deeper into nowhere. The scent of the scum came close to overwhelming the wave of desire that led him there in the first place. Little known of what exactly he was looking for, Garfield continued to plower through the maze._

_The scent grew unbearably intense, crawling up the thin skin lining his spinal cord. It tickled the fur along his ears gently before being sucked into his breath. Once he inhaled the stale scent, the pupils in his eyes dilated into oblivion. The burnt smell spun around in his mind, slowly morphing into a trigger that launched him into a wall involuntarily._

_CRASH!_

_Not bothering to wince at prickling of cracked rock rubbing into his fur, Garfield stood up high and mighty to face the khaki mirrored version of himself. Preparing his claws, Garfield instinctively held one arm forward, ready to swing and grab his opponent by the throat._

_Instead of approaching, the beast heaved and panted on front of him, collapsing into a depressing pile of fur. Garfield dragged a thick pointed claw into the creature's neck, pinning him into place. He bent over onto one knee to take a good look at the passed out mammal. Fur matted and the barer hide of his brow coated into thin sweat, the beast seemed rather roughed out as if he had been running for days. The muscles of the beast's calves were taut and stiffened. Rubbing against the monster must've been the dirty walls of the sewage because his arm was decorated with clumps of dried mud._

_What could have possibly happened?_

_'Wait a minute,' He spun around, stumbling on his stocky feet. But every step he took, the chilling serpent crawling down his back would hiss louder, as if warning him to choose his steps carefully. The sewers became blurry in his eyes from blend of dust and light fogging up the room. The grate above him clattered wildly into the sewer, echoing throughout his ears._

_The only thing separating him from the murky water was the lump of fur withered on the ground. It seemed almost coincidental that the giant thing laid directly in front of his left foot. Garfield could hear it begging for him to kick it into the water, drowning it before it could awake._

_Tempting as it seemed, he paused his launching foot at the sight of the glistening water. It was awfully sparkly for road run off that carried filth from the streets above. He leaned forward to take a better look at the water, amazed at how much it resembled a sea foam green. But when a speckling of fur rippled in front of him, he hesitated._

_Garfield could recognize this situation all too well. His claws swatted at the thick mass of fur, scratching shiny red marks that cut into the tangled fur. His dream state dawned upon him, making him hastily flipped the creature onto his back. Garfield stared at his mouth in melting horror._

_A ripped piece of blue cloth tattered against the breeze of the sewers as it struggled against the bite of Adonis._

* * *

He caught a sharp breath in his throat when the scent of gasoline became especially pungent. It stung the inner corners of his eyes, forcing him to ram his head blindly into the seat in front of him.

"The hell, man. Are you trying to make me crash?" Victor pulled over to the side of the road with a great swerve, causing cars behind them to honk in shock. Garfield shook his head furiously, eyes dizzying from the jerky movements as they adjusted to the cold light. Through his blurry eyes, he saw the car rocking viciously against the curb, throwing Kori's stack of carefully selected magazines all over the ground. The four were scuffled up from the jerk of the steering wheel; Richard, especially, knocked into the parking gear

While the dark haired boy patted the swelling skin of his head, Garfield grasped his neck in an attempt to soothe his sudden lack of breath.

He blinked once and briefly saw the silhouette of the shining sewer water, drifting like the river of Styx. The white flashes in the cover of his eyelids slithered down the water stream, bouncing rays of mint and pearl. The longer and faster Garfield clamped his eyes shut, the more of the illusion he'd see.

Once again, he closed his eyes, even covering them with his sweaty eye mask. The river had already faded away but a dancing green shadow spun into sight, twirling and swirling where the river once was. It lifted its nub-like arms in rage and tore at the darkness blanketing it. Unfortunately, the emptiness won the battle and flushed out the sparks of green and yellow, plunging it into shimmering oblivion.

He ripped the mask off, tainting his sore eyes with the greyscale sight of the T-car. After tapping three fingers onto the ledge of the car door impatiently, he yanked the mask back on, pressing the cloth into the sockets of his eyes. His left hand middle finger nail kept jabbing at his brow bone every jerk the car made but Garfield's milky mind didn't care for the shots of pain. All that mattered was the scowling embers of red, orange and blue, spinning into a tornado until all three swirled so violently that his vision shook, shaking them out of sight like an Etch-A-Sketch in a vicious pair of hands. The minuscule particles dispersed, simmering down until a single sky blue particle remained. Suddenly, it began to flicker, crackling and sparking until it grew thrice its size. When it stood at the size of a blueberry, arrows of navy shot out, withering the glorious flame out. Then came a bright light. It blew up out of nowhere and Garfield would see it from behind his eyelids that this light was like no other. It was majestic, grand and so lifelike.

He took it all back. It wasn't grand nor majestic but it unfortunately was extremely lifelike. The graying clouds storming around the skyscrapers pillowed into the dreary air, filling the area with smog. Garfield thought of it to be just a quick shower until he looked to the right and saw that the sky was still a faint azure.

His hands flew towards under his seat where he yanked out a first aid kit. The ordinary plastic box clattered against its own lid as he scoured over bandages and vials of medication. Five duplicates sat, untouched for months. He held back a breath as he slipped the white mask onto his face. Richard gave him a funny look, quirking an eyebrow and wrinkling his nose. Garfield nudged a finger towards the storming sky which caused Richard to nod back, taking two masks and strapping one to himself and Victor.

Just as he was about to hand one to Kori, she let out a great yelp, throwing his form out of the car and tumbling into the sidewalk. He could barely make out the only female grabbing the two remaining Titans and pushing them out as tiny bullets rained down from the sky, sizzling into the hot metal within a seconds contact. They drilled into the car, collapsing it into dust, only leaving their backpacks, a couple of magazines and an old bag of chips behind.

His feet were light against the jagged road; tiny pebbles scattered under his steps as Garfield flew into the scene. The underside of his heart pummeled as he did as well into the box filled alleyway. The leader was to his right and the team was directly behind him, already stripping to change into costume.

If only Richard hadn't been so adamant that they drove to school as civilians. They could've leapt out of the car, restriction free, plucking up actual citizens off of the ground before Gizmo's exploding bots could get them.

The villain himself didn't make an appearance yet but Garfield nitpicked through all the voices of the crowd a certain crackly one that sounded more like a cloned Daffy Duck rather than the youngest juvie they've caught.

He scanned the scene; this was Richard's job but that boy seemed more focused on the source of all the raining bullets then the sight around them. The ground below them was mostly cardboard madness, crinkled in smudged pleats. They all weaved a chaotic pattern the trailed up into flattened boxes and their younger upright brothers. The alley was fairly closed in as all the bullets bounced off the stone ground like pennies on the counter top.

His fingers tinged a wondrous burn that trickled down his bone like rain against a pole. Numbly warm when the pads of his fingers brushed against each other, the energy concentrated in his core. The heat slid down the flats of his limbs, tingling the contorting muscles; Garfield prepared to shift.

"Halt!"

A firm hand held his head back. Garfield growled immaturely, shaking Richard's grimy fingers off his mane; it had been a Titan custom to grab Garfield by the head whenever you wanted his attention. Like a horse, Richard yanked his reins, forcing him to jog down into a slow trot.

Garfield heard the boy behind him mouth 'what' so softly that it sounded like a sheet of paper cutting into the wind.

"Shut up and listen."

"I just hear a breeze and possibly some bullets deflecting off the ground, dear Richard."

What Kori skimmed over, Garfield's ears echoed. There was certainly a wind of a hefty sort that whistles along the ledges of windows. But in between those ribbons of air was a minuscule grinding noise that gnarled bumpy cement over pebbles. A whirlwind swept the city of its memories, howling and scathing as it makes sudden contact with bodies. Hair flapped, an umbrella tore apart and someone's shoelaces laid loosened, aglets slapping on the pavement in a beat that went _babum, babum, babum._

"Gar hears something! His pupils keep shrinking and growing."

Garfield kept his gaze steady on the burgundy piece of lint hanging off Victor's shoulder. It remained stuck to the fabric like a burr on a bear. Stoic things helped him hear; it was an elementary rule. To heighten one sense meant weakening the others. Sight had to go so all he filled in his head was that tiny piece of lint. It was easier to focus on lint and sounds rather than many sights and sounds.

Lint was so plain and meaningless that it seemed to blur into the background while his imagination painted vintage comic styled scenes of destruction and chaos. But this scene in the present was full of desert and wind. He could see a tumbleweed roll by as the loud crunching sound wheeled in from the west.

"What do you see, Gar? Is it my backpack? Please tell me it's my backpack. I have an algebra 2 take home test that I really, really need."

"Victor, shut it. He can't hear your backpack. He can't see through walls."

"If Garfield could, he would've been able to catch whoever kept stealing my English biscuits, dear Richard."

"Those were English biscuits? What kind of tasteless pieces of shit are those? They had frosting and a lemony flavour."

"No Victor, that wasn't frosting. I coated them in honey mustard."

"Oh that's disgusting, Kori."

"Almost as putrid as stealing."

" _Disaster_." Garfield announced with a clear and sharp voice.

"Yes, absolutely disastrous."

" _Explosion_." The word slid out of his lips as the crackling grew louder.

"Yes, explosive. Victor, your theft is explosive and out of the ordinary for you. Aren't you a hero?"

"How can theft be explosive?"

"I trust Garfield. He said so."

" _Running_. Heavy breathing." The footsteps grew larger, louder and lengthier.

"Yes Victor, you are running from the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"My cookies! You were the one eating them?"

"Kori, Victor, shut it. Gar needs to concentrate." A hand patting his clenched shoulders made Garfield straighten his back. "Go on."

"Mammoth sized machine suit."

"What else?"

"Gum chewing. Sounds like two pellets only popped in. I can hear the candy shell cracking."

"Continue."

"Someone is coming."

"What?"

"Someone is coming." He repeated it five times in his head. _Someone is coming. Someone is coming. Someone is coming. Someone is coming. Someone is coming._ The trigger that launched him into the wall in his head tickled the cartilage of his ear, whispering a sensory countdown.

The heat slithered into his ear.

_Five_

It scraped the back of his throat, forcing his mouth wide open in attentiveness. As the warmth spiralled into the pit of his stomach, a sour taste coated his tongue.

_Four_

That feeling mingled within his finger tips, swirling hypnotic circles in his right palm.

_Three_

Most of the hot air escaped out of the cavity of his nose, leaving only a crawly wet thing to haunt his mind, body and soul.

_Two_

His eyelids snapped wide, pinned against the piercing wind and shock of the future ahead. A vibration emitted through his chest as bolts of gold and bronzes glazed over his eyes, stirring up a monster caged up in eroding restraint.

_One_

His form somersaulted thrice, each flip growing a mountain of fur along his spine. Something inside of him broke free, ripping away his outer skin and sprouting large limbs and elongated talons.

It was the beast. But it couldn't have been. Garfield has never been alive for all those times he shifted into the ominous creature. All those glossy flashbacks of that night were from the tall tales Richard proposed when interrogating him. This shift was unlike what he could ever imagine. It felt painful and delicious when he felt each strand of fur shoot out of his skin like tiny daggers against bison hide. He grew queasy as his gums extended to accommodate the enormous fangs bursting out of his mouth that hung low and loose when he roared. The shift was bright, and bold, and big, and wonderful. The further he fell, the more he succumbed to the sensation of heavy limbs and branching shoulders. Those arms encircled a form that felt hot to the touch and emitted a violet aura and sizzled into his virescent fur.

He shouldn't have threw himself out there to the world for all to see the blonde teen morph into an animal. But now she was clutched in his arms, his arms as in Garfield's arms, not the beast's. There was no beast. Garfield has taken the form forcefully away for his own selfish purposes.

Her.

Rachel.

She was in his arms.


	12. episode 11 - heroes vs humans

Her form was fragile and small compared to the beast. If his arm slipped up, he could crush her into limp limbs and pierced bone.

Beast Boy heaved, ears clearing of their ringing as his teammates launched into action. A baton swung, bolts of energy festered and a canon reloaded. Was he in any condition to fight? The _beast_ could shred the criminal jaggedly in half with a single tear. But _Beast Boy_? His heart shook in the vessel that carried him, blood unused to pumping so wildly throughout the messy form. And _Garfield_? Nothing spat out of his mouth and only bars of battles cries squeezed in between the blood pumping, heavy breathing and groaning. His lips salivated all the moisture out of his mouth, leaving his tongue chalky.

His paws, or hooves, or fins, whatever they were this time, groped for her body. Beast Boy stood high and mighty off the ground which worried him if he dropped her accidentally out of shock. His wandering fingers stroked the back of her neck, the bone of her spine, the jut of her hip and the crook of her ankle. Everything seemed in place, no parts flimsy or severed. There was no breath that blew out of her mouth when he pressed his ear against her face.

The shock immobilized him into an immortal statue, leaving a human that stood just as still. She made no effort to fidget but he had no intent to let her go anytime soon.

A dent in the road sat where Beast Boy hurled himself on front of Gizmo. Chalk marks grooved into the group, creating a fine grate shape that could've minced a body clean like a carrot. The hide on his back strained as reddening scratches flustered pain that numbed into his shoulders.

Just as he decided to let her down, Starfire's scream whizzed by his left ear, ending in a final crash. Her cries of pain and terror echoed between the corridor of the road, terminating the short lived battle of Gizmo. The crunching of metal against rubber pushed him back down, pressing Rachel's face into his chest protectively.

* * *

Her lips pouted at the sight of her beaten backpack against the cherry hydrant. She strutted to the side of the road, indifferent of the taped up scene behind her. Beast Boy couldn't see most of her face when she opened the bag but he feared the horrifying revelation more than anyone could.

A compact mirror was what she pulled out. It had a milky opaque lid with tiny skeleton leaves traced all over it. Two soft matte balls curved around each other, locking the simple mechanism in place like two swans in grace. Rachel gave a gently blow on the top, shielding the mirror from daylight as she took a quick look at it. But as soon as Beast Boy approached her, she scrambled to snap it shut, slipping it into the comfort of her jacket pocket.

Her bottom lip jutted out as she stared at the destruction ahead. Some gears must've clicked into her brain because Rachel bent into a squat and surveyed the debris with her soul.

Beast Boy guessed that she was in awe of the horrid nature of their fights. When the villains rose, fists clenched in harvested determination, the heroes launched after them, kicking and punching until their hearts bursted out of their chest. They'd _fight_ and _fight_ and _fight_ , because that was what heroes were forced to do when evil struck the surface of humanity.

With rain must come thunder, must come flooding and must come growth. His family survived on the misshaped masterminds that lurked underground; they fed his very being with fortune, fame and respect. To maintain power, he must use it for the greater good or he would be kicked to the curb like a sick mutt in a pound. Society was messed up that way. To gain benefits, one must benefit and differences were what made benefiting easier.

When they captured the criminals, barring them back up into the slammer, the city paid a hefty price to rebuild itself. Heroes might have the satisfaction at the end of the day but every single war fought left eerie scarring of guilt in their mind, reminding them each time they strolled around that they weren't perfect; blood still stained the streets, buildings collapsed and lives would never be the same.

Garfield wondered if someone as intelligent as Rachel could ever understand the cost of saving the world.

* * *

Her hair fell over her shoulders like a gentle waterfall, sloping under itself and spraying out of the side openings. The ends flicked around every time she shook her head, dancing like whisker yarn that begged to be swatted at. He could easily grab those strands and smother his face into it, inhaling the dense, moist and hot scent of human.

His elbow slipped from under his face, dropping his chin against the desk. It's screws rattled within the legs, causing a ruckus to the working class. The cattle on the screen snorted at the sight of Garfield rubbing his chin soothingly, almost shaming him for failing to pay attention.

The projector thrummed in the background while the blinds swayed to the rhythm of the wind. Stripes of sunlight landed on her hair like a prison gate. The beast's hunger lingered on the foot of his tongue, stinging the air slightly every time he opened his mouth.

They arrived to English class early, making it to school by ninth period. The treacherous fight had gone on for hours after he snapped out of his daze but the adrenaline that pumped in his body sped up time around him, sending the beast into a terrorizing rampage on Gizmo and his army of Red Ant bullet bots. The rain storm he witnessed taking over Jump City had merely been a swarm of the minuscule robots that acted similarly to ants; they swarmed around chunks of metal and ate away for what seemed like days, because the more they ate, the more energy they wasted.

He wondered what would've happened if Rachel had a bullet drilled down into her body. If she collapsed from shock of the searing pain from the bullet, how could he ever forgive himself?

This girl that he held such a subtle attraction for was now placed in a position of danger. She wasn't just a girl but now an obstacle he must worry about when he shedded his human look for more green features. God, she must've thought he was a freak. Turning into creepy crawlers had always terrified civilians when first witnessing the young boy hurling himself into action. She had been blessed to see him in his worst, the only creature he couldn't reign control on.

He, the _rider_ , couldn't regain the control from the _horse_ who stomped and shuffled as it wished, indifferent to the feelings of its master. It would sway to the left, galloping full speed towards the waterfall. Garfield felt his heart plummet when the sight of rushing water and a distant cliff flood his mind. His life started there, a cliff with a rapid that carried _boats_ and animals _to their doom_. Just as he tipped over the edge, the numbness of his arms regained their strength and choked the horse back before it could fall. The mammal would shiver in fear and back away from the drop. It's eyes were the same coppery brown and it's ears twitched to the left awkwardly. It was like his horse never changed. On the other hand, Garfield felt strangely cold from the rush of the waves. The air piqued humid and the African forest bristled with bird calls. He would sigh in relief and place himself fully back onto the saddle. But that control was no longer there as he could feel the horse's heart beat against his leg in a thump, thump, thump.

It's button heart still clicked in his chest. Nothing but the tempo of the heartbeat clogged his ears; it felt like a small bottle cap that clicked in and out, in and out.

* * *

_"You hear about the fight down by the Warren Street?"_

_"Yeah, what about it?"_

_"Well my sister was on her morning shift and out of nowhere, a flying body broke through the window and onto the bar table."_

_"No way, that's insane. The body is dead, right?"_

_"Nah, it was just Starfire. I'm so jealous because I've always wanted to see one of Teen Titans fight. And Carly got to even touch one of them!"_

_"I wanna see a battle one day."_

_"So you can skip class?"_

_"Duh. It must be nice to be a superhero. I would so cool with superpowers."_

_"What if a baddie slices one of your arms off?"_

_"That could never happen. I'll have super senses and reflexes."_

_"But what if he attacks you in your sleep?"_

_"Then I'll have a secret identity. No one would even notice they've been walking among a hero."_

_"You think there's heroes around us that we can't see?"_

_"No way, I'd notice."_

_"Yeah but if they looked just like a normal citizen, would you?"_

_"Why would they do that? They look so cool that they'll never need to be human."_

_"Maybe they want privacy?"_

_"Well if I was a superhero, I'd gobble up all that attention! It must be nice to be so attractive and powerful."_

* * *

She thumbed the dip of the home button on her phone, swirling it around as the time brightened. The background had been completely black, seemingly easy on the eyes at night. The screen dotted with droplets of water runoff from the giant umbrella hanging over her head.

Garfield wished the umbrella hung over his head as well because the light drizzle soaked the small of his back. Outlandish and icy, the rain felt more like a spritz of perfume rather than a storm. The skin on his bare shins was glazed with a coat of moisture, a mix of gym class and that wet bush that slapped his legs as he wander off, head high because he didn't want to spend his afternoon hopping over poor worms.

His hand brushed the smooth silk of her shoulder, fingers heating up at the thought of hearing the thumping of her heart. She must've breathed, talked, danced and ran like a human. It almost irked him that he still stood head high beside her. Unlike him, she was fully mortal, with blood flowing through her chest and a mind planted from the essence of birth. Garfield didn't like to think he was god-like. Underneath that hide and fur laid a delicate body that was just as vulnerable as a lamb. Could her ears swallow the gulps of saliva that festered in his mouth like cleaner wrasses against a scaly comrade? Did her heart beat the rhythm of the hooves of wild bison that ravaged the dry grassy plains? Could Rachel gallop from a spotty cheetah, scrape the sky with a feathered wing or drink the scene around her of ancient shipwrecks and beings? He lifted his fingers off her shoulder, barely budging the folds of chiffon over lace trim. There laid no rough leather nor feathers. It was human skin, delicate like petals and sensitive like a newly sprouted sapling. He wondered how on earth did humans evolve to become so weak and prone.

_Scratch that._ Garfield didn't think humans were weak, the beast did. He shook his head furiously, ramming the imaginary monster in his cranium until it turned docile.

"Do you have a headache?" Her voice wavered shakily through the sharp air.

"No, no, I just-" His thoughts trailed on as nothing seemed more appropriate then ditching the bluff. "The big creature that hugged you - the beast. He affects my feelings sometimes."

"How so?"

"Well," the queasy primal instincts scoped the underside of his abdomen, "he makes me think about humans a lot. And animals. Sometimes even the gross shit."

"Can't you talk to him?"

"No, he's just another thing living inside of me."

"So you never know when he strikes?" Rachel's eyes widened, staring into the hillside of Lescon.

"Never. He only comes out on certain occasions."

"Like when?"

"I'm not sure." His shift fuzzed up his memory. Nothing but jigsaw pieces and static remained in the cavity where the beast resided in his mind. "This was the first time in forever that he came out to play."

"Then I'm forever thankful for him. I'd been skinned alive if it weren't for him."

He snorted, rolling his eyes at her graciousness. "He wasn't doing you a favour. The beast is selfish and horrible; I hate him."

"You don't know that. How would you know how he feels?"

"That's because he's practically me! He's just a piece that I can't control because it's so finicky and tough when I'm unconscious."

"You seemed conscious when you saved me."

"Maybe he wanted to fuck me up so I couldn't pay attention in class."

"Or maybe," she swerved around to face him, eyebrows curving into a dip and cheekbones flaring hot, "you are growing up."

"What do you mean?"

"You have more control over him because you are maturing."

"I can't control him at all. He's still just as stubborn as he was years ago."

"Well then maybe he's giving you back the control. Perhaps he thinks you aren't the same you were _years ago._ " Garfield never noticed how pretty Rachel smiled. It was Mona Lisa like, small and pouty and barely noticeable. It sat under her Cupid's bow, resting comfortably along with the rest of her face. Heck, even her eyes smiled along, irises slanting upwards to look up to him. She beamed with pride, glowing from the sunlight bouncing off her brow bone and the jut of her jaw. "You shouldn't worry about him."

"You seem awful close to him. Did he say anything stupid to you while I was frozen back there?" He elbowed her cheekily, teasing the slant of her eyes into a crease when she glared back at him.

"No," she said slowly, "but I did hear heavy breathing, your heavy breathing. I thought you had some kind of cold and was wishing you'd pass it on to me so I can skip the rest of the day."

He threw his head back and laughed, clasping his hands on her shoulders for support as he began to shed tears. "Wow, I never pinned you to be such a rebel. Careful 'bout that though because I might be sending you to the slammer one day."

"Don't count on it."


	13. episode 12 - californian winter

_Garfield saw a rather damp essence in Rachel. She was a spirit that laid palms out and fingers loose, reaching out to touch whatever Garfield fed her; it was insatiable yet ever so mysterious. She would slither around his voice, easing it with simple questions until his responses grew longer and more questioning because he, himself, had no answers. He found the shadows that lurked around her peculiar and was eager to explore further into the abyss. As he reached a coaxing hand out, it met with a blunt blade of gusted air._

* * *

This afternoon walk down the stark park had been during an especially dreary day, when the wind plundered his rosy cheeks and the air had all the moisture sucked out of it, leaving his lips pursed and chapped. Trees of autumn were skeletons, the lucky of the bunch with chunks of life still grasping onto their bony joints. They swayed violently, blowing bitter wind through their twigs that whistled the familiar tune of winter.

Perhaps he would've recognized that tune if he didn't wimp out and leave his hoodie at home! The chill stung the tips of his ears, pinching and prodding them until they could've snapped off and he wouldn't have even noticed. He barely had the hearing of a human when his ears numbed down from loss of blood circulation. Only wefts of sound passed into his mind, but none could overpower the pulse in his heart that felt icy and bitter. The essence of winter was true in the air but the leaves below his feet still crunched into fine dust, not yet soiled by the heavy, cold rains.

Rachel's breathing dramatically paused, then she exhaled a warm breath that misted, deeming it too cold to be standard Californian weather. Garfield wondered if she liked the cold as much as he did. It was the only suitable time in the hot year when he could become a polar bear without worrying about sweating his fur off.

Her padded footsteps stuttered as their shoes crumpled fallen leaves, crinkling them into small shards. They were only walking across a grassy valley yet she looked as if they were stepping a foot off a cliff.

Her chest lifted with gasps of cold air underneath the sweater clinging off her shoulders. Rachel's cheeks stained a blatant rose that melded into her jaw and down her neck, scoping out the silhouette of someone who wasn't used to the cold either. "I've never experienced weather like this here."

"Yeah, it's unusually chilly. If it had been a few degrees colder, I would'a thought a baddie struck again." He chuckled into the opening of his shirt, desperately hoping that the mist would bubble into something more so it could sooth his frigid form. "Not that it would matter, since I can obviously pro-pro-protect you." The chilly weather was starting to get to his voice.

"Of course." She barely reacted, staring into the afternoon around them. "I have full faith that you are capable. But who will protect you when someone dangles a carrot over your face?"

"You don't actually believe that would work, do you?" Garfield gasped at her nod, shaking his own head furiously in denial. "Nuh-uh, no way! I mean, I'm vegetarian and all but I won't fall for some stupid trick. This might be the body of an animal, but this muscle right here," he said as he clunked his skull, giving Rachel his cockiest grin, "this is a work of human innovation."

She seemed rather unimpressed, tapping a close finger to his nose before pushing him away. "I've seen you before."

"Huh?"

"Your battles. I've seen you fight and go down in the dumbest ways."

"Oh really?" He rapped his elbow into her arm, shoving her towards a potential leafy mess. "I don't believe I've ever gone down without a few knuckle cracks here and there."

"Well," she pondered with a tap of her chin, "a favourite battle of mine was when you shrunk into the size of an ant and got captured by that squid hybrid."

"First of all," he claimed defensively, "I let myself get captured by Teuthidas! I was the brawn in the mission and without me, we'd all be screwed! Not even Aqualad had a solution, but Beast Boy, shapeshifter extraordinaire, saved the day!"

"So you were eaten and then shifted into something larger?"

"Exactly! Except because we didn't wanna blow this dude up, I had to be extra careful. On the plus side, I think the skunk was a great choice! The stink let everyone know that I was alive and I'm sure the fur tasted like dog shit."

"Do you remember all your fights like this?" She sounded invested, which made Garfield's ego stretch. Was he impressive enough? He sure hoped so. Perhaps Rachel liked a guy who could throw a few punches or maybe hurl a building into an ocean.

"Only the good ones."

"Are they really that exciting?" Her voice wavered, weakening down to a flimsy whisper. "They seem quite brutal on television. Whether you're taking down a flesh eating alien or an army of mind controlled minions, there's always blood drenched in someone's uniform."

"Nah, not even the littlest bit true. That's like saying every Lescon kid is shit at algebra."

"You're right. It's just you."

"Listen here, missy." Garfield wrapped his arm around Rachel's shoulder, causing her to stumble into him. He slid a lock of black hair behind her ear and whispered, "Just because I'm a little clueless around the numbers doesn't mean you get to make fun of me. You think I need to think about the frickin order of pandas, or whatever it's called, to play comedy relief on the battlefields. No-siree, only Dick and Vic gotta know that."

"Whatever." She gave him a charitable shrug and ruffled some of the hair on top of his head. "You need better comedic timing anyways."

"Haha." Garfield gave her a mean eye roll, even going as far to flick her in the forehead. His face soured as the nail on his forefinger stung. Bringing the nail to his face, he felt the tip of his claws through the invisible facade, terrified at the thought of touching something in seemingly nothingness. He reminded himself to check to see if his claw had broke after he took off his holo ring, noting the fact that wounds and any infliction on his body would be masked by the advanced, yet dull invention.

His ears shifted as he heard the raspy whimper of Rachel. Garfield's hands swatted her hands and blew on the sore spot, shaming himself for not being more cautious. "Shit, I'm sorry Rachel. I almost forgot I got these mean claws." When his thumb brushed over her forehead, it revealed unmarred, cold and pale skin. The spot felt hard as a knot, and his curiosity got the best of him, making him press his thumb.

"Please stop." She frowned at him. "It's not a big deal."

"I need to find the cut. If you get infected, you'll look like an idiot with a bandaid in between your brows." He imagined his claw gently dragging along the bridge of her nose, creating small indents that wouldn't dare leave marks. The flush in her cheeks felt warm and bloomed over the mass of her face. He admired her uncharacteristic state until his eyes wandered towards hers that were slanted, doe and brown. "Nice pair of eyes you got there."

"I'd appreciate it if you took your filthy hands off my face."

"What happened to your blue eyes?"

"Hands off."

He abided by her orders, mustering up an apologetic smile. "What about your blue eyes?"

"I don't have blue eyes."

"No, you had them before. They were most definitely blue."

"You must be mistaken then." She sighed, blowing out hot air into the chilly atmosphere. "The cold must be getting to you again. We should probably head back for the rest of the day."

"What about your blue eyes?" He huffed, allowing himself to be dragged back to the school. "Are you saying my memory is bad? Because I swear, I saw you with blue eyes before!"

"Then the cold must be getting to your eyes too."

"Then you better get me home, m-mama. And ya' better give me a warm k-kiss goodnight." A fuzzy, warm feeling swallowed his chest as he saw her give him a small smile.


	14. episode 13 - inferiority complex

If he stayed still enough, no one would notice the neon green polar bear cub in the Kori's amassed collection of stuffed animals - assuming that her handmade creatures were actual animals. His neck craned forward, and Garfield jutted his fluffy bottom out to seem more artificial. The thought of being caught and the need to check up on his dear friend motivated him to continue the act and swallow the pain of keeping his eyes bugged out.

The chunky particles of glitter body spray flew by his snout, almost causing him to let out a tiny sneeze. Twirling bare female bodies danced around him, laughing and shoving together. To dull the sting of boredom, Garfield attempted to count up all the giggling titans in the room.

There was Kori, of course, who shot up into the air and boasted about her wonderful experiences in highschool. Karen resides just under Kori's feet, petting her silky pillow as if it were a cat. Josephine was skillfully painting Kori's toenails standing up, keeping a keen eye on the animated girl's sudden movements. Kole and Argent pretended to be invested in Kori's darting words but clearly couldn't keep up; they nodded their heads every few seconds like ceramic doll eyelids. Unfortunately for him, Pantha was scouring through the mass of stuffies, making her way down the impressive line up.

Her fingers weaved through each nook and cranny of the unicorn beside him. Garfield feared that she'd hear his gulps when she leaned closer towards the mythical creature to inspect its glass eyes.

He comically stared into the soulless depths of the unicorn, imagining its squeaky and terrified cries as Pantha prodded it with her retractable claws. As her attention flew to his fuzzy face, Garfield fought the urge to turn into a cicada, but it became more appealing as the pointy dagger inched closer.

The tip of the claw was a milky ivory that faded back into a dark grey from the lights. Possibly from overuse, a nick in the lower left of the tip shaped out an uneven prong on the terrifying nail; the image of his eyes being forked out almost made him yip. The predator inched closer, and closer, and closer, and-

"I'm looking for Garfield." He recognized that voice anywhere. Unsheathing his babyish head from his paws, Garfield turned around to face his saviour.

"The fat cat on paper or in real life?"

"Uh, real life." Rachel gave her a blank stare. Garfield wondered for a split second what she would look like if she were ecstatic, until stubby fingers pinched the fatty skin of his back.

His limbs straightened out like a frozen house cat falling from a great height, only he had been dangling off of Pantha's fingers. Dropping him into the open palms of Rachel, Pantha zanily snorted, "Peeping tom is a bear now unfortunately."

"You never cease to surprise me, Garfield." His holder smoothed the fur under his eyes, affectionately petting his head as he nestled into her chest. "I never took you for such a fuzzy, little creep."

"Yeah Garfield, you hear that? Better stay away or I'll poke one of your eyes out." Pantha couldn't hurt him in the clutches of Rachel. She broke into a light sweat in the face of a complete stranger, unlike Rachel whose skin felt taut and chilly in the heavily air conditioned room. Garfield drowned himself Rachel's sweater as the two girls conversed about him.

"I'm sure he was just waiting for me. This room is the nearest to the main entrance after all."

An apprehensive voice entered from left. "You're Rachel, correct?" When he jerked his head to the side, he caught a glimpse of Kori's emerging scowl. "Why are you here?"

"I was invited by Beast Boy." Rachel's carefully wrapped arms unravelled as she lifted his furry body up, into the bright lights. He squirmed uncomfortably at Kori's pinnacle gaze.

Her soft eyebrows were pinched into a knot that ruffled up her wide cheeks and soft nose. Kori's lips were flat across her face, zipped up and sealed away. He dared not to provoke her and sat flaccidly in Rachel's arms. The face of a lioness about to strike made the fur in the back of his neck warm. As Kori continued to ask - interrogate - Rachel, he held his breath in his young lungs.

His held in sneeze was let out as Rachel tickled the underside of his belly, scooping him up onto her shoulder like a baby. She rocked him side to side, swaying her hips to the subtle tune of the pop music, clicking her tongue to the beat as Kori fixated her gaze into the teen.

Garfield felt the need to break them up, but when Josephine beckoned everyone closer to his dear friend, he clutched harder to the back of her neck, terrified for her life.

* * *

"So you were a teddy bear?"

"A polar bear, a fat and cute one."

"And Pantha almost skewered your eye out?"

"Man, it was like being approached by a frickin knife."

"So then your friend came in?"

"Her name's Rachel."

"And then Kori did what with Rachel?"

"She asked her why she kept stalking me."

"And now they're painting each other's toe nails."

"Haha, yeah about that," Garfield gave his comrade a wide, toothy grin, stretching his cheeks across his face like a rubber band. "The girls were all over her, and I couldn't stop them."

"What the hell, Garfield?" Richard slid his reading glasses off the bridge of his nose and pinched its bridge, grunting as he stared blankly at his sheepish friend. "Why did you even invite her in the first place? I thought we had a rule."

"Yeah, but she's cool about the whole secret identity thing. And she was kinda my friend before she found out." Garfield couldn't understand why his leader felt so apprehensive. An abandoned knot in his stomachache recoiled as Richard continued to 'school' him; he felt as if the days when the team doubted his abilities returned, and Richard was still hounding him everyday during training.

He felt knocked out after that. This feeling of floating through a cloud and being weighed down by elevation felt familiar to Garfield every time he scoped the skies of the seaside. Every syllable his leader stressed felt like small jabs in his skull that numbed his mind the more he fell. And when Garfield fell, he heard nothing; the wind moving past his ears was far too fast. None of Richard's words passed through his mind, and Garfield couldn't help but feel aloof about it all, until something his leader said hooked his attention.

"She's the goth version of Terra."

"She's nothing like Terra."

"Don't get fussy at me." Richard's eyes were out in the open for the first time in forever. They were pools of watered down blue raspberry kool-aid, something Garfield thought was particularly obnoxious. Although he knew there were dark pupils and light irises staring back at him, he couldn't help but think that his leader's eyes were still blank. "Rachel looks like she knows you very well."

"No shit."

"But have you seen her around other people?"

"Well, no-"

"And she became your friend because?" Richard looked like he caught Garfield in a checkmate. He had a minuscule grin on his stupid mouth like Garfield's whole social life was all just a game. Garfield wondered if he thought of him as a pet snake who he fed rats and other critters just to get a laugh out of it. "You should stop seeing her."

"No way." Garfield stepped closer to Richard's face, huffing as his eyes bore into another blank stare. It was nothing like Rachel's. "Stop trying to get all up in my life."

"I'm just looking out for a friend."

"What about your girlfriend? Huh? Is she all sunshine and rainbows too?" His eyes were watering and hot. There was a numbing rage that resonated inside his chest, and it grew monstrous the longer Richard's words settled into his mind.

Garfield knew that out of all the Teen Titans, he and Richard didn't get along the most. Even Aqualad and Speedy's petty quarrels couldn't match up to the tension Garfield felt whenever he followed Richard's instructions.

He hated how hypocritical and dishonest Richard was to the team. These white lies that grew into something more than just lies were what tumbled his trust down. Garfield had a particular hatred to liars; he sometimes feared that Richard's obsessiveness would create more tall tales and eventually become his downfall. He had seen too many people fall from the heights because of this.

But no matter how many times Garfield tried shooting Richard down, his leader was adamant on climbing straight back up the shaky ladder. "Me and Kori are perfectly fine. You shouldn't concern yourself with this."

"Then stop trying to shove your way into my business! I'm no different."

Garfield thought Richard couldn't think of a lie fast enough. The problem with lying was consistency and creativity. Lying was like story telling; the cat couldn't be a dog, and the cat couldn't just be a cat. It had to be more. He fixated his eyes in the soulless pupils the boy wonder, searching for another eureka moment, another lie.

"Me dating Kori isn't reckless. You compromising our secret identities is."

"I didn't have a choice! If I didn't jump, Rachel would be headless and five feet under! Dead Richard, she'd be fucking dead."

"You dont know what you're getting yourself into."

"Yeah, yeah, I got all the bullshit. I can protect her, you know?" The inferiority complexe left long ago.

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Garfield, you can cut up whoever you want. You can leave scars and even kill. But none of that will help you if you let yourself fall easily. Terra is just an example of that. You attract bad attention, Garfield. You're vulnerable. Every stranger is an angel in your eyes. But you have to understand that the toughest villains are always lurking in the shadows. No idiot would kick you in the front when they could stab you in the back. And that, that's what scares me the most. That is why I don't trust your judgement."

* * *

Garfield figured out what he hated most of all about Richard. When he wasn't lying through his teeth, everything he said made stupid sense. He observed too much, knew too much and felt more like a stalker than a leader. And he was always right.


	15. episode 14 - blood in snow

Garfield rarely won anything. Video games, fist fights, and Pictionary were some of the things Garfield had been especially bad at winning. But after countless games being rubbed into his face, that small muscle in his heart that craved victory diminished, retiring from all that exhilaration.

But he could feel, in his tampered heart, a warming static buzz that vibrated through his chest, making him want to cry and laugh. It could've been from that hot, black coffee Garfield shot down his throat after accidentally eating a cob of corn that had been drizzled with bacon fat—a monstrosity. Although, Garfield preferred to think that this delight came from the sight of Rachel reading a magazine from the coffee table in the common room.

All for the sake of attracting minimal attention, she had woken up awfully early to bus to the library across the Titans Tower and had gotten dizzy from being flown for the first time via superhero. She would never say, but Garfield could tell how shaky she had been after she missed the elevator button the first two times.

But Rachel was finally here. It was a muddy Saturday, she could barely stare at him, and he was as green as the artificial grass in the nearby art academy's football field. No one could stop him from inviting her over as soon as she left the tower the previous night. After all, they weren't able to go through her art history notes thanks to the girls clamoring all over her like she was some new eye candy.

"Say, what did you do with the girls after I left?" He leapt up onto the back of the sofa, toddling back and forth between her and the floor behind him.

Rachel didn't turn around, instead continuing to run her finger along a specific page about paper flower making. That finger dragged along the pale petal of an origami daffodil, gradually missing its target as it soon fell off the page. "You would know. I saw you talking to Richard in the ledge above."

"So did you like hanging out with them?"

"The girls? They're fine. I removed the nail polish when they fell asleep though." She turned around and rested her arms on the back of the sofa, kneeling herself closer to him. "But I think you're less annoying."

"Impossible. I'm a _literal_ animal."

"Animals don't talk. Aliens and super humans do."

"Well, we're talking right now."

"Exactly. _We're talking_. Yesterday, I sat quietly through two renditions of _Twelfth Night_." Groaning, the girl palmed her forehead. "They made Viola into a viola that fell in love with a trumpet."

"Did she disguise herself as a trumpet as well?"

"Worse. A trombone."

"Then what was the second rendition about?"

"Mermaids."

"Ouch." He grinned as he fell onto the floor as a cobra, hissing his way up Rachel's leg and onto her lap. "But you can alwayssssss call me if you are ever in need of my fine assssssssitance."

Her eyes widened as she pushed his head higher to her eyes. "You can speak?"

"Obviousssssssly."

"As a snake? Any animal?"

"Of coursssssssse."

"I'm going to assume that the hissing is your personal touch."

"Precisssssely." He slid his way around her neck, adorning her with a scaly green boa. "You up for sssssssssome sssssssssscrabble?"

* * *

Robin had lost the scrabble board last summer. The only card game they both knew was Crazy Eights.

And just because Garfield knew how to play Crazy Eights didn't mean he was particularly good. Every time he got an eight, he couldn't resist putting it down; Rachel would annoyingly save all hers until she had one card left. It was infuriating watching her put down an eight and pluck up her next batch of cards, not even smiling at the fact that he was three levels behind her.

Maybe he shouldn't have suggested to play Crazy Eight countdown after he managed to get three jacks, four fives and an ace in his first hand. But seeing her stare blankly at his smug face made him feel horrible. Now her 'smug' face was glaring back at him—he couldn't really see a smile but she knew under that skin that she had been gleaming with delight—and he still sat with his eleven cards, all mismatched numbers in the hearts and clubs suit.

He regretted putting those queens down. And after she put down the mighty queen of spades, Garfield painstakingly picked up five cards, horrified at his unfortunate outcome.

As he groaned every time his turn was skipped or whenever she put down a two on top of his, she stared at his face. He assumed she didn't know he knew about her staring, but something about the way her fingers twitched when she picked up four cards, then three, two and finally, one. On Garfield's next turn, he found out what card that was—a seven of spades.

He pouted immaturely, hoping to gain her attention, but Rachel instead asked to use the restroom and said that Kori had shown her where it was yesterday.

* * *

He skittered under the heavy door, wondering what happened to Robin's plan on vacuum sealing them.

His beetle eyes made him dizzy as he stared at the kaleidoscopic image of a cold, grey hallway. Barely twitching a muscle, he checked his behind and his front to see that no one sane was awake and wandering these halls. It was just him, the potted tree Heidi and _Bruce Li_ encased in a tacky picture frame.

He hid himself comfortably behind the leg of the display table, chattering his legs as Garfield stood alone. He counted the few doors to the rooms his tiny eyes could barely see clearly: the warm grey bathroom that was a rave when the lights dimmed, the emergency stairway all the way down to the laundry room that only Richard used when the elevator broke down, a trashed guest room that had been coated in the thick blanket of feathers before the herd of girls left and a bedroom. Someone lonely used to sleep there, but he'd rather not think about it too hard.

Garfield wondered if that was why Raven left. There was no one here for her, no one that appreciated the same books she did, enjoyed staring at the window in silence or had an affinity for that pony show she used to love so much.

He could totally related. He didn't think there was anyone else like him. There were many Robins, other Tamaranians and thousands of people with prosthetic limbs. There weren't any people that had survived Sakutia, turned green, and became the entire animal kingdom. It wasn't very fun being all _special_ and _unique_ when you had no one to share that with.

He wasn't sure that there were any other half demons from Azarath, but he was pretty sure there weren't any others on earth. He knew a bit about the Justice League, and wondered what would've happened if he had told Raven that she was alright to him. Garfield was more than okay with the old books, the dusty old relics, and the stench of incense. Actually, he hated that smell, but never bothered her about it because it seemed to calm her down.

It was right after she'd strike her first match and gently light the sticks that bothered him the most. The little puffs of smoke that pillowed from the pot of ashes she kept close to her bedside stunk of hot coals and burnt beef on that hot summer day Victor decided it was a good time to barbecue some patties in front of Garfield's face. But the more he thought about it, the older the incense smelt. It wasn't as robust as before. It smelt a bit more old and chalky, like someone had attempted to set fire to tinfoil.

He honestly had no idea if it was possible to set tinfoil on fire. But if he had to put an identity to the smell, that was what he would describe it as. It was steely, dusty, and _coming from under that door_.

She looked awfully guilty. Her lips were pursed in an O, and her eyes were gaped open wider. "I was just curious."

He didn't have anything to say. Garfield crosses his arms firmly across his chest, against the skin that covered the thick ribs that shields his thumping heart. He could still hear it clearly thumping though, taking over the heat of his mind. He tried saying something witty to lighten the mood, but nothing came out but a hot breath.

"Garfield, I apologize." She played with the spine of the book like a piano, pressing against each twine thread. It irritated him as she unconsciously scraped off some of the dust with her nails, carving tiny imprints that would probably not last for more than thirty seconds. It still irritated him. "I accidentally wandered off and couldn't resist looking at this book."

"You shouldn't touch things that don't belong to you."

Her teeth clenched. "I understand. I just didn't know any better."

"I don't think I believe you." His eyes trailed along the fingerprints on the blanket of dust. They were like tiny footprints in fresh winter snow, or the blood dripping down from the queen's fingers before she gave birth to Snow White. Some of the prints were light taps, while there was a specifically long one that dragged along the vanity mirror.

The vanity. There used to be a thin linen sheet that covered the mirror. Now, it pooled onto the ground, rippling like a Roman sculpture's toga. Garfield stared into the matted reflection, catching a repulsive look at the culprit's hands reaching for the handheld mirror behind her.

His hands clasped tightly on her wrist, staring down into the palms coated in grime. "Do you know what this room was?"

"I think so." Rachel didn't sound convinced with herself.

"Do you know who's room this was?"

"Yes."

There was a triangle of yellow that began scoping into his vision, cutting the image of her hand in threes. The toxic yellow fog began cloaking his sight, hovering over a light mist that made his eyes water.

Garfield wanted to ask her to leave politely, because that was the right thing to do. He had manners and wanted to use them, but Rachel had already fled the scene, leaving the room in disarray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else know the version of Snow White where her mother pricks her finger with a needle and her blood drops into the snow?


	16. episode 15 - penny for my thoughts

Garfield thought that thinking the sky was pretty _was pretty dumb_. There's nothing to look at anymore except a bland blue. It sometimes changed colour—blue, pink, orange, purple, yellow, grey, and black—but only people who sit out by the bay long enough could see it. He thought bitterly about all those boring people that liked to park their cars on the beach across the Titans tower and watching the reflection of the setting sun in the water and tower; he'd never admit that he was a bit jealous because he no longer had the time to frolic about. Thanksgiving weekend was ending too soon for his laid-back taste.

The sky was pretty, deep, beautiful, plain, ugly, extravagant, or whatever enthralling meant. It was like Lescon High, the pinwheel dangling by his window, the remnants of the blue fuzz in the fridge, and the disgusting boxers underneath the bleachers in the fourth-floor gym. It was just there.

Garfield realized that sometimes, things that are there shouldn't be. It was such a confusing epiphany to have his already crammed head wrapped around, but the more he thought about it, the more this concept terrified himself. For instance, the bacon in the griddle was there every morning. That meat should be still on the pig, not smoking up the whole room til Garfield's nostrils tinged. There was also that English project that sat on his bedroom floor—misplaced, forgotten, irrelevant. And Rachel's skirt-clad legs crossed over the heap of stones that formed a cliff by the bay. Her legs didn't belong there.

But he let it slide because he felt slightly bad for bringing down both their English grades by pettily forgetting the project. Although, she still didn't belong where she was at the moment—cross-legged with her jacket under her thighs to prevent the shards of rock from cutting her up.

Garfield still didn't know why she was there. It was barely the brink of the early morning, and he had offered to take her to school if she came over to work on their project. He expected to take her up to his room, far from the cold bedroom her hands touched, and finish up the short story they had been working on. But she seemed insistent on not entering the tower.

Rachel's head turned towards the coastal waters that sloshed against the beach violently. "It must be very nice to live out here."

"Yeah, I guess." He didn't have much to say that day.

Her hand, delicate and lithe, brushed a lock of hair on the front of her face, covering his view of the slope of her nose, the hood of her eyes, and her Cupid's bow. She said, "Is there a reason you brought me out here?"

"I didn't."

"I'm wearing new combat boots, Garfield. They're very uncomfortable to climb rocks in."

"I'm sorry about that. No one really walks here, and I'm usually flying before I land on this spot," said Garfield.

His words slowly died out as his friend swiftly turned around to face him head-on. Rachel's mouth was fixed into a frown, and her eyelids hung sleepily, covering an otherwise clear view of her irises. He couldn't tell if her mouth moved at all while she talked. "What's wrong?"

He backed away from her face and turned away. There was a _burning sensation_ that flooded his cheeks, creeping into the outer corners of his eyes. It trickled into his nose and onto his lips that couldn't move.

"Garfield, I could feel the heat in your hand when you dragged me up here. If you're angry, let's talk about it." Her hand approached the edge of his hairline, brushing the lock of blond away. He kept feeling a static buzz wherever her hand left, and it annoyed him that his face continued to heat up. He wanted to clutch his ears as she continued to talk because his ears thrummed at the sound of her husky, soft voice. "I can listen."

That burning sensation stopped dead in its tracks, launching Garfield into a shivering frenzy as he couldn't pry himself off of Rachel's lips. They were just there, and they looked so glossy and perfect, and he couldn't help but mess up whatever flavour of lip gloss she had on that day. And because it was just there, he thought he could tamper with it, because no one should dangle candy in front of a child's face and expect him to not at least take a lick.

His eyes were glued shut as he followed his first kiss with an onslaught of smaller pecks down the curve of Rachel's jaw and the base of her neck. Finally resting his hot face against her heating neck, Garfield shifted his arms to encircle her waist as he knelt closer to her form.

The air had been knocked out of his chest as he couldn't breathe. His words fumbled out like toys from a bin. "I'm sorry. You're very pretty, and I couldn't help myself."

"It's fine." Her throat moved against the taut skin of his neck. As her collarbones flexed, Garfield could feel the heat in his eyes evaporate into his forehead.

"Can, can I do it again?" He couldn't wait for a coherent response from Rachel. The cooling on his lips reminded him of what had happened. It was aggravating having to wait minutes, seconds, milliseconds when he could just kiss her at that very moment.

So he did.

* * *

_The penny felt cold in between his calloused fingers. It's ridges felt almost invisible underneath the thick coat of sweat under his padded thumb. The penny was a slimy piece of corn fresh off of Cyborg's mouth as he devoured the vegetable every hot summer's day._

_Abe Lincoln with his scruffy full glory stared at the open air as if he were in deep thought. There were many things to think about that day. Garfield didn't realize that until it was too late, and he was facing her back head-on._

_As his tongue slathered over his chapped lips, he relished the relief and felt a cooling sensation trickle down his spine. Then a weight set in, forcing his bottom lip into a pout as the heaviness of it all dawned on him._

_He was the 'dumb' one for a reason because Garfield couldn't handle all this thinking about serious things like death, destiny, and desire. It was all too much for his mind. There was only so much he could fit in there before his head overflowed, spilling out all these regrets and regressions he had spent so long trying to contain._

_Although, he did remember fumbling as he handed her the penny, steely and hot._

* * *

Her gasping for air woke him up. Rachel coughed into the crook of her elbow, pushing him away with her other arm. Garfield caught a glimpse of her faint blush and slitted eyes with dark irises that peeked through the bed of lashes.

"You look like you're about to faint."

"That's because I _am_." She muttered, twisting her hips around to stare at the bay. "If I knew you were that strong, I would've made sure to keep my distance."

"Oh, sorry about that," he says, patting her arm sheepishly. "I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"Someone I knew before." He knew talking about other girls in front of a girl was a mood killer.

Garfield wanted to take his words back a notch, but Rachel replied, "Is she pretty too?" Her words weren't suspecting as much as they were teasing, enticing, and maybe even a bit stirring.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't actually remember what she looks like."

"Does it bother you?"

"I've known her for years. Of course it bothers me," says Garfield, recklessly chucking a flat rock into the bay. It shattered on the beach, scattering pebbles into the crashing waves. "It kinda pisses me off, to be honest with you."

"Have you ever thought about seeing her again?" Garfield pretended not to see Rachel's pursed lips, so cold and closed off.

"I don't think I have a choice in that matter."

"Why not? You know Batman's protégé and an entire universe full of superheroes."

Garfield startled himself as he yelled, "Maybe she doesn't want to be found!" Rachel sat still on the rocks, slowly turning further away from him as her jacket shifted. He gulped nervously and said in a hushed voice, "Besides, I don't really want to talk about superheroes. I have to live with three _idiotic_ ones already."

"Don't say that," said Rachel harshly. Her eyebrows fixed into an arch that reminded Garfield of Robin. "You're very lucky you have them."

"Yeah maybe, but it doesn't seem like they feel that way with me. You'd get pretty sick of all the complaining, and pretending, and ignoring. I try letting them be stupid, but it's hard watching them live like nothing happened."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean," Rachel said, "what happened?"

"Everything and nothing according to them." Garfield coughs into the air from the dryness in his throat. "I hate it when they don't listen to me like I'm stupid. I'm not a nerd and read shit, but I know a lot of things they don't. Like how people go away. I've seen it too many times; it's too predictable. Everyone gets their own personal problems and ignores them for the sake of everyone else, and soon the world keeps turning and no one can keep up. That's how the team will break up."

"They'll grow out of it and want to pursue something more in life?"

"Nah, no one really wants that." He waved his flimsy hand, numb from gripping Rachel so tightly. "Its gonna be from all the buried feelings. That's what's wrong with us. We all think that keeping our problems bottled up will make it all go away. But sooner or later, Star and Robin will break up, Cy will go off in a tangent, and I'll be left depressed and lonely like always. But I'm used to it."

"What, watching your friends self destruct?"

"Not exactly. I'm used to knowing everything shitty going on because no one thinks that I'll take them seriously when they come crying to me. But it's hard not to think about it too much."

"You're sure they don't talk to each other about it?"

"Absolutely. Ever since she left, it's always me. I'm no empath, and I'm obviously not a therapist. But I can keep my mouth shut long enough that it seems like I don't care," Garfield grumbled. He wanted to keep ranting, but he waited for Rachel to say something back. She didn't respond.

He sighed into the misty air, leaning his head back onto the flat of the largest boulder he sat on. A stream of yellow light flooded his vision, assumingly from the rising sun. But as he shut his eyes, Garfield began to panic and the yellow stain remained. It encroached every corner of his sight until he was nearly blinded.

Leaping into the air and into the form of whatever flying creature he thought of this time, Garfield let himself glide through the cooling wind. The heat grew unbearable in his slick feathers, and soon he was plummeting into the ocean. As he broke the rhythm of the waves with a CRASH, salty water burned the tip of his tongue. He let out a gasp at the sudden pressure and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

Suddenly, lithe arms encircled him, hugging him tightly to a feminine chest, neck, and face. The arms dragged him onto the rocky beach; the corresponding voice grunted as he laid on her thighs.

His eyes burned as they flew wide open, drinking in the sight of her mouth hovering over his own. She backed away, muttering about not needing to do something. Her eyes crinkled when she wiped the sticky gloss off her lips.

Garfield took the sudden opportunity to yank her down and kiss her.

Something about kissing Rachel so suddenly felt liberating, especially on this certain cliff made of chipped stones and crunchy pebbles. The only two times he actually remembered being there was with girls who he wished he could forget. They went away one after the other, and something about Rachel made Garfield more okay with kissing her. Maybe it was because she were just a human, who probably couldn't hide under a secret identity or choke him to death with a wave of a hand.

Rachel was down to earth, soothing, and someone he would have imagined himself being attracted to. She made him wish he was also human, so he could walk her home every day, meet her family, spend the holidays at her place, and not worry about someone slashing her body and leaving her blood of drain.


	17. episode 16 - red, pink, and flushed all over

Did Spider-Man ever have to hold his art history notes against a window to get a good look at them? Garfield thought he did not. But his mind weeks ago felt that rubbing his notes and smudging his entire review page was a great stress reliever. It absolutely was; a practical one, maybe not.

Garfield only got through the Woman of Hohle Feels—or maybe Holey of Fels—before getting tired of trying to feel through the grooves of his pencil. He didn't need a high grade to pass the semester.

But that tomato red notebook filled with geometry theorems and formulas kept snickering at him, pages worn down from constant flipping and searching. The theorems were all from the ninth grade textbook, but he knew he'd need them later in the tenth-grade year. Garfield didn't need another surprise bug to bite him in the ass.

There was already a giant one called English sitting in an unfinished essay on his laptop. It stretched out its pointy fingers, all ladylike and elegant. It could've been searching for a cup of tea or a dainty little stick to prod the back of his head. 'Garfield, Garfield,' he could hear it snootily shout, 'I heard little Tommy Sawyer back in the washing machine.' The thought of Victor chucking in the load without weaving through all socks, and reds, and paperback borrowed books made the hairs on his arms stand. He had to remember to talk to Ms. Bradford about that.

And what about King Philip and his waiting, probably cold and stale, soup? Garfield recited that abbreviation: domain, kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, and species. And what was co-dominance again? Was it when the white and red mix to become pink? Or was it when the flower looked like a bloody result of a paper cut?

There were six treatment methods for depression that he has to remember: cognitive behavior therapy, talk therapy, that thing where the neurosurgeons squished the brain around, putting that beepy thing next to that old woman's heart, antidepressant, and electroshock therapy. Although, Garfield didn't think that his health teacher would accept 'squishing around the brain' as an answer.

If he could hold his head tight enough, maybe he could squeeze the last bit of potential from his brain before he went nuts. He sorely considered doing that, but there was a muddle of juniors behind him that would surely look at the cramming sophomore dumbass.

It was no use studying when he couldn't focus; Garfield practically ripped open his backpack, shoving in the notebooks and loosened paper clips. That cool rush of air that tickled his ears as he ran his fingers across the school walls alleviated his feverish head, making him grin at the sight of Kori waving at him through her classroom door.

The soles of his sneakers tapped against the tiled floor, beating out the rhythm of a procrastinating boy riding the high of overconfidence. The sun was shining brightly over the melting frost outside—it wouldn't hurt anyone to be a little cocky. Whipping his phone from his back pocket, Garfield didn't even shudder when the device almost slipped out of his grasp. He had a good ten minutes to be an idiot.

Under all that stress and messy mental notes, there was a neat to-do list full of things he'd like to accomplish that day. One, try a frappe. It was a deep regret of his that was worth less than an extra half an hour of sleep. Two, pay Iris back for buying dance tickets for him. There was a big interview for the team and Robin was adamant that everyone would be there for the good publicity and image, but Garfield also really wanted to attend his first highschool dance. He sent her a dm just in time; two rectangles of light blue card stock laid neatly tucked into a pocket in his backpack—he didn't want Rachel thinking he was a slob of course. Three, ask Rachel to the dance. Fuck.

Trickier than it seemed, listening in on his surroundings was the only option to find her. He knew she must've had class because if she didn't, she'd be in the cafeteria like he was. Rachel had first period art history that day, and their English class was after lunch. Garfield passed a lab where he recognized the name of Rachel's biology teacher—a tiny name card read M. Ruiz—and Rachel's distinctive scent was absent. She could've had an elective that he didn't know about, but Garfield knew from Iris that electives for tenth graders only started after the sixth period.

He gently tapped his fingers across the painted walls in frustration. As Garfield's fingers played against the cold hard shell of paint and sealant, a large SMACK hit him right in the nose, knocking him almost

off his feet.

When did they start making wooden doors so hard? He had been smacked around with doors before—usually in battles when his teammates forget that he was trailing behind and throw a glass door into his face—but the unsuspectingness of it was the _cherry on top_ of his probably red nose under his pearl bead disguise.

A lithe hand grabbed onto the sides of his upper arms as his hands scrambled over his face to cover his rapidly heating nose and forehead.

"Shit, I'm really sorry!" He could barely see past his hand. The girl was probably his grade and wasn't anyone he's met before—he never recalled seeing anyone with as many rings as this girl wore. He tried looking down at her through his blurring vision but could only make out her dark complexion and tangerine eyeshadow she wore. Her nails were cut short and must've been natural; they were much thinner and slightly dug into the skin of his arm. "I didn't see you there, and I was talking to Caroline, and I talk with my hands, and I was getting into this really nice part in my story. I should've watched where I was going."

Caroline's outline shook her head and pulled her friend away from him. "Did you slam your car door into Karan like that?"

She squealed and pushed her friend away, slowly disappearing from his vision until he could see nothing but the pale cream floor and the tan walls. There was only one wing of the school where he could be, and there was only one door those girls could've come out of.

Fanning the bridge of his nose with his hand, Garfield groaned at the GIRLS sign on the door of the locker room. Just his luck! If Wally heard about this, he would surely make fun of him every time they ran into each other by the boy's locker room.

This time he heard the metal hinges of the door move, making him swiftly hold his breath until the mobile door swung to his face, brushing the tip of his aching nose. More girls spilled out, smelling of sweat and that horrible body spray Kori used to wear after her showers. He held his breath tightly, hoping that no one would notice the lanky boy that stumbled upon a place where no boy with morals would go.

But as the last girl brushed the side of the door with her chipped nails, he couldn't help but smell something musty inside the change room. The scent was too complex not to be a human; probably another girl lagging behind.

Suddenly, Garfield swore from out of nowhere, the basketball coach called out, "Anyone still in there!"

His eardrums rattled comically, making him shift into a tiny monarch. Probably not the most unnoticeable, but he was barely hanging onto his conscious by a thread.

The man huffed at the door from the silence and shouted again, " _Rachel_ , you got five minutes till the next bell."

Garfield's proboscis twitched at the sound of her delightful voice calling out, _"Got it,"_ from behind the door. As the coach let the door fall from his grasp, Garfield swiftly flew past his ear, getting pushed by the wind from the door shutting.

The girl's locker room lacked the strange poles the boy's had, but they had two large mirrors right by the entrance that Garfield got to take a look at. He saw a neon green butterfly fluttering over the image of a fortunately dressed Rachel staring into her compact mirror. He didn't understand why she'd stare into that tacky thing when she had this perfectly clean mirror right across from her.

Garfield sloppily flew to the upper shelf on the walls, propping his six legs right over Rachel's head. He wondered what she was still doing in the change room; she was fully dressed, had her backpack on, and didn't leave anything behind.

A small click of the knobs that locked her compact mirror echoed through the room. Rachel huffed, slipping the mirror back into her backpack sleeve. Then she took a turn at her surroundings, studying the tiles on the floor, the poster about tampons, and that weird napkin thrown on the ground by the stalls. Curious, Garfield noticed how blown out her eyes were as she anxiously scanned through the room until her eyes rested on his beady ones.

He wanted to make a joke about how well he took care of his wings, but all the sound he could make was flutters and jitters since he didn't have a mouth.

"I don't suppose you're here doing superhero work." She thinned her eyes. "I could get you suspended for _this_."

Letting himself fall from the height of the shelf, Garfield landed feet first into the chilly tile as a human. He whipped his head at Rachel's judgemental stare, giving her his best smile. "I was just looking for you."

"As a butterfly?"

"The wings ward off all the predators."

"Right." She crossed arms under her bust. "What do you want?"

"Ouch, a bit cold are you? I make a good fur blanket as long as you don't mind purring and occasional hairballs." His lips quirked to the left as he drank in the rare appearance of a flushing Rachel. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened last time we met."

"Oh, that." She avoided his stare, lifting her bag strap further up her shoulder.

"Well, excuse me. I thought that meant something special." He leaned against the brick and his body bounced slightly from the impact. "I really like you."

_"I know."_

"Oh, you do?" Garfield couldn't help the cheeky grin that spread across his face when she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Then I must be completely at your mercy then."

"Look, I'm not good with the whole dating scene. It's really not my thing." He never thought listening to Rachel's voice tremble and waver would bring him as much joy as it did.

Garfield definitely knew that she was embarrassed. She didn't giggle or stutter, but something about the way her leg jittered on the ground and her feet shuffling away from him made him feel happy that he had such a large effect on her like she did with him.

"That's cute. I don't mine having the upper hand. That's why _I_ 'm asking you to the winter formal."

Rachel asked suspiciously, "What's the catch?"

"Maybe wear something no longer than your ankles. I'll probably drag you off in the middle of the night."

She cleared her throat and said, "I'll need to know what you're wearing first."

"Why?"

"So we can match. I thought you wanted the upper hand." She rolled her eyes and gently punched him in the arm. "Or I'll just get a nice dress and you can match your tie. As long as you don't come as a green reindeer."

He wanted to laugh but her hand clasped over his mouth tightly, wide eyes shushing him immediately as she pushed him towards the ground. Garfield didn't understand until she kept pushing her thumb and forefingers together—turn into something small. He fell into her grasp as a slinky ferret, innocently smiling as he slipped into the open zipper of her backpack.

Tucked between her phone and a teal plastic folder, he let his body slide comfortably into the thin space, cushioning himself with his furry limbs and long torso. The ride outside was plenty bumping, most likely from Rachel speed walking, but his smile never slipped from his face as the bag began tilting and his body was chucked onto a sidewalk.

He stood up human and complained about the strain in his back, moaning at Rachel's lack of compassion as she told him that ferrets were furry slinkies and he should stop complaining. When he asked her to kiss his nose better, she held her hand to swat him. With his eyes closed shut, scared for his life, she kissed him lightly on the lips, and her Mona Lisa smile never left her face for the entirety of their lunch break.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On fanfiction.net i had to shorten the title to “red, pink, and bloody.” Thankfully, archiveofourown is a bit more lenient so the title of this chapter is the original!


	18. episode 17 - the missing season

_Starfire_ 's lengthy legs poked out from the change room door first as she slinked into his vision like a ferret. Her lips scrunched into a pout as she posed against the door frame. "Does this say 'I want you in my bed'?"

He almost spit out the coke he was drinking. "Why the hell are you asking me this?" _Beast Boy_ 's face flushed as he recovered from his coughing fit.

"I thought you would be more understanding of my situation. I am still clueless about human males." Her empty eyes stared back at him, widening as she huffed. Gently sitting down next to him, Starfire gently tucked her ballerina dress under her legs. "I didn't bring you here to reject everything."

"Maybe if you chose something other than hot pink, you won't burn my eyes."

She heaved up, tucking the mass of her red hair behind her shoulder. "Fine, I'll go find something else. Watch my bag." Starfire dropped her shoulder bag onto his lap, smacking his phone in the face. "And don't move."

There was a cackling voice in his mind wondering if she was challenging them. Beast Boy wasn't planning on going anywhere that day. He had no obligations. There was absolutely no need to leave this tiny circle of space he nestled comfortably in. Starfire didn't even have to open her mouth; he was perfectly okay with staying put, hands tucked under his legs, and swaying back and forth on the cushiony chaise. His arms shuddered as he tilted back, and then forth, and then back to the wall, and then forth towards the dressing room door. He was just a steady little domino, on the brink of falling—but he'd obviously catch himself before he toppled over. Humming a ditty, Beast Boy was another reed in the wind. Roots firmly in the ground, he remained still as a statue.

It just irked him a teensy bit that Starfire wouldn't trust him to sit still. She knew he had nowhere else to go, nothing else to do, or no one nice to see. That weird tickling feeling she gave off to him made him feel itchy and panicky like he wanted to fly the coup. Of course, that was just his inner bird of prey acting antsy.

Still, she wouldn't be back for another half hour. There was nothing else in this boutique except sundresses. Starfire could easily be searching hours, trying to find something flashy in her size.

Imagining Starfire buried underneath dresses made him want to check out a cool paper card stand around the corner. That cutout of a savannah got him giddy, and Beast Boy would love to play around with the folding cards for a few minutes. He would only be gone for a while, just to take a look at the small kiosk and play with the tiny trees.

* * *

The itty bitty rhinos and giraffes were so cute. Beast Boy would poke them all day if the lady running the stand wasn't staring him down. He did look awfully suspicious with a magenta bag over his shoulder; the lady must've never seen a green boy with a purple purse play with her paper sculptures.

Beast Boy looked over his shoulder, trying to see if there were any people staring behind him. He never knew how many creeps and criminals were lurking around the mall. There wasn't anyone around that he could see or hear, except for a maniacal laugh that approached him from the east end of the plaza. The voice grew louder and louder each second before Beast Boy caught the sight of an armoured alien aiming to rip off his shoulder.

He swiftly ducked to the side, letting the purple purse dangle next to his clenched fist.

"Long time no see, Beast Boy."

He had a difficult time mustering a breath as he itched to turn around to look at the seething alien behind him. Her knuckles cracked as she approached him, stepping over the exploded rubble. The urge to shift into anything large and snap her neck off was strong but his loyalty to his good friend was stronger.

"Get out of here, Blackfire."

"I thought we were past nicknames, Beast Boy. Why don't you call me Komand'r?" Her sickly sweet voice made him want to shrivel up on the inside. He tightened the strap on Starfire's purse as he swirled around and launched a leg toward's Blackfire. The daunting alien, briefly stunned, stepped back with a smile. Her crackly lips pursed as she said, "You remind me of my dear Dor'ion. He had such an affinity for the colour green."

"He has acquired taste, definitely." The changeling held his left forearm out, ready to block any sudden hits from his chest. He never managed to understand how Blackfire became the all-mighty queen of Tameran without a clear fighting technique. Even after the attack from Tameran that scared Starfire from returning, he could never tell when Komand'r would throw a bolt of fire or nick him in the shoulder. She was always a looming memory of his that he had no real affiliation with other than Starfire. There was no reason she would have such an effect on him. Regardless, Beast Boy stood stiffly and twitched underneath the stare of the murderous tyrant. "You shouldn't be here."

"And Dor'ion was a bit of a masochist too." She ignored him, choosing to play with one of her silver cuffs. "You don't give me enough sympathy, Beast Boy. Always assuming the side of Koriand'r. She's such a coward, turning her back on her own people."

"You drove her out. I don't blame her for leaving you and your sick family."

"Is that what you really think? She could've returned whenever she wanted, except she liked cosying up here on this disgusting planet." Her form began to rise as she launched a small flaming ball to Beast Boy's neck, causing him to shift into a gazelle. The fire singed the fur on his neck, leaving a patch of smoke in its place. "But I think I understand now why my sister loves it here."

"Less radiation?" Blackfire shot another bolt at his prancing form. "Sorry, bad joke."

"You know what I did to Dor'ion whenever he pestered me?" She rolled her eyes at his frightened expression as he rushed up a mannequin as a squirrel. "Do you take me for a savage? I don't kill unless necessary."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"I do think I'm an honourable queen, don't you think so? You should see Tameran now; it's such a prosperous and strong nation. I'd never kill one of my own without true intentions," she exclaimed, shoving a display table in his direction. The green squirrel merely chirped as he dashed into a dark pink store, searching for high ground to launch himself off of.

"So what happened to Dor'ion, yo-your highness?" He didn't mean to sound so scared. Beast Boy's cocky, sarcastic voice was nowhere to be found at that exact moment Komand'r had him by the bushy tail.

"'Killed him off accidentally. I had to bury him myself in the middle of a forest with no one to mourn with me." For a brief moment, Beast Boy believed that underneath the sadistic and manipulative layers of Blackfire was Starfire's sister, naive to the horrors of Earth. Her angled eyebrows softened in his eyes as the bones in her jaw and cheek lowered, turning her into an uncanny doppelgänger of his friend. Blackfire, for a second, looked like the crippled and timid sister Starfire claimed she grew up with. The facade shook off as Blackfire looked up at Beast Boy with newfound determination. "Doesn't matter now. I just swung by to remind my sister who's on top."

"You made your message clear years ago."

Blackfire snorted, cocking her head towards the gleaming sun from the broken skylight to the shopping centre. "Still not over that aren't you? Did my Gordanians scare you?"

"They're all dead now, aren't they? Your entire army, crushed under the hands of the Teen Titans!"

"Beast Boy, I am not my sister. I am not a titan. I don't have time to care for my fallen foe, unlike you." Her hands began to curl into fists and her legs began to rise over his head. Blackfire, decked in her elaborate metal plates and jewels, levitated with elegance. The silver crown that nestled on her outgrown hair resembled the tiara Starfire wore when she first crashed on earth. The stern expression and tense posture felt eerily familiar to Beast Boy, reminding him of the wild Starfire he saw kill and thirst for blood. But instead of raw determination, there was a calming look of acceptance in Blackfire. Acceptance for what? He didn't know. All he knew was that as she rose up into the blaring sky, she said, "Say hi to my dear sister for me. Tell her that her elder sister dropped in for a visit, an excursion, to deliver a message—no, a warning."

* * *

Dressed in a flowing blue gown, Starfire knocked Beast Boy off his feet—literally. Her hands clutched onto his shoulders, nails biting into his sweating skin. "Where is she?", the flying girl asked, eyes bulged open.

Beast Boy wiped a bit of mascara running down her face. "Left a few minutes ago."

"With what? Did she take anyone? Anything? She didn't rip anything off, right?" Her hands patted on his two arms, his torso, and then his legs. "Oh, thank goodness you're fine. You should've called me anyways."

"She didn't do much, just broke the ceiling."

"I do not care, Beast Boy. You know I could rid of her easily."

Beast Boy began to panic as he saw her eyes water. Her hands twitched violently as her voice called Robin on the communicator, telling him to come to handle the press.

He guessed that she was angry with him. Her back was to his face and her face was to the destroyed lingère boutique. He wasn't familiar with angry Starfire; he wasn't familiar with angry girls in general.

Sometimes, he wondered how Starfire felt, wallowing up in her anger by herself. Who did she talk to when she argued with Robin? There was no one on her side when he and Cyborg watched the two go back and forth. Cyborg always went to calm Robin down, claiming he knew enough about the boy wonder to not make him go crazy. But whenever Starfire stormed up to her room with Silky tucked under her arm like a football, Beast Boy got out of her way. He'd always be under his blanket with his phone in his hands, sweaty from rubbing his heated screen. Those were the days he'd stay up hours, too scared to fall asleep.

But now, he wasn't locked in his bedroom; he was back to back with an angry, fiery teenage girl who could throw him into orbit if she wanted to.

So Beast Boy sat, elbows on his knees, waiting for his teammates to show up while the alien behind him seethed and cursed under her breath.

* * *

_Someone at the back of his head guilted him as he sat at the foot of the hospital bed. Garfield could barely breathe with all the tubes, needles, and blood, but the half-dead woman was really the icing on top. Hearing from the nurse that she passed out from shock and not from the hundreds of glass shards in her skin didn't calm him much, leaving him alone in the hospital room._

_He tried taking a few deep breaths. His right foot jittered to the beat of the air conditioning rattling. First, he imagined a tiny engine in the walls, shuddering under the air pressure. But that engine turned into an imaginary pacemaker that he swore he felt in his chest. The sound of his heart beating grew louder and louder until he swore he all that he could see was red._

_The room suddenly was on fire. A girl and her doll sat on the floor, crying and screaming as flames engulfed her bedroom. Garfield with his clunky beast claws and heavy body tried picking up the doll as an attempt to comfort the child. Unfortunately, the more he tried lifting the doll, the more his nails scraped against the fabric, eventually tearing it until all the stuffing rolled out._

_He wanted to cry so badly, but he was sweating most of the water in his body, leaving his eyes dry. All he could do with his clammy paws and chapped lips was watch as the girl was picked up by a tall woman, carrying nothing but a lasso at her waist._

* * *

"Sir? Can I get a Pokémon keychain?"

_Beast Boy_ looked down at the small boy pulling on his finger. "You have a quarter for it?"

"I left my money in mommy's bag, but I really want the Charmander! If I don't get it now, someone else will steal it."

"Fine," he said as he pulled out his wallet, "but after this, I gotta get you back to the shelter."

As the boy turned the crank on the machine, fidgeting as one of the clear balls came tumbling down, Beast Boy wondered how the boy felt as his mother was body shielded him from the hundreds, maybe even thousands, of glass bits from the exploded store window. It felt kind of funny; it was 8 pm, his mother laid unconscious in the nearby hospital, and Beast Boy watched as the boy struggled to open the tiny plastic packaging preventing him from getting to the Bulbasaur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter I'm publishing since cross-posting this story on archiveofourown! If you would like to read it from there, my name is CatisaOrsilla.
> 
> The reason I named this chapter this way (other than the fact that I didn't think of anything else at the time) was that originally when I planned this story three years ago, the story was supposed to be my version of a season six. Afterwards, I reread the prologue I wrote and realized that it made more sense to have this story be a season seven, since I referenced the plot in The New Titans where Komand'r takes over Tameran. 
> 
> Do you all understand the references I make to the comics? I try not to add in details from other comics, but it's difficult when I can't differentiate what happened where.
> 
> -Catisa~Orsilla


	19. episode 18 - the day before

_He sat with his chest rising up and down rapidly as the drips of sweat on his back pooled onto his pillow, draining his struggles to sleep along with it. There was a terrible itch on his leg, and when Garfield went to scratch it, the skin was dry as paper and flaked off in slices, revealing fresh, pale skin underneath._

_Thinking the white lines laced around his ankles, wrists, and fingers were just loose pieces of skin, Garfield continued to pick at them. His head ached as more pale skin appeared, growing snow white as the moonlight from the silk curtains bounced off the intricate pattern. Ignoring the strange glowing, he continued to scratch that itch, hundreds of itches, all over his body._

_After the deed was done, he lied surrounded by the flakes of his skin that were gleaming bright. Confused, drained, and nauseous, he sat back up and looked through the dots of skin, checking for any blood that might have seeped out—he couldn't remember the last time he filed down his sharp claws._

_To his horror, the redness hadn't been coming from any blood, but from his body. Where the white lines were before were dozens of glowing streaks, looking like rivers of blood that forked off into vessels. Garfield leapt up in shock, rushing towards the vanity mirror he didn't remember ever having. His eyes widened as he recognized the lines of glowing skin formed into an intricate pattern._

_Wondering if his face has been marred, he looked up and saw a black stain that shattered into his eyes._

* * *

The boy laid against the cooling surface of whatever it was as the straining white lights flooded his vision, making his hazy. He groaned as he turned over, expecting the other side of his bed but instead rolling onto a lock. Coffee would've been—very—nice.

As he let out a yawn, Garfield noticed his acquaintance snickering to his right while snapping her lock shut against the rusty locker. "Want a sip?"

"Yeah," he moaned out, reaching for Iris's coffee, "too bitter."

" _Pussy_." She slurped the rest of her ice coffee down, immediately tossing the cup full of ice away by the garbage can.

"Not at all."

"You sound like a guy who asked some poor girl out," she exclaimed.

"Hold on, I didn't say anything about a date," Garfield sputtered, "I'm not blushing, am I?"

"Well, you got some macho attitude going on like someone didn't reject you. Usually, you're such a pushover."

Garfield wished his team could hear Iris now. Beast Boy was never a pushover; he was as stubborn as a toddler. Although he usually wasn't successful when trying to drag Cyborg to a newer vegetarian pizza place or Robin to the new Moped display at the mall, he made sure to at least put up a fight.

"Psh, yeah right. And yeah, you bet I got a date to the Winter Formal." He smirked, giving Iris the finger guns before knocking into an obstacle behind him.

His face heated up at the sight of a girl in black. Rachel glared back at him, bending down to reach her dropped textbooks. After a sudden realization, Garfield rushed to grab whatever he could and clumsily knocked his head into her knee. "Agh, sorry."

Rachel hastily grabbed for her phone in her jacket pocket. "Oh, I got my dress. Surprise, surprise, it's black. What's the colour of your tie?"

"Solid red. My tux is just black."

"Her?" Iris said, eyebrows furrowed under her new wispy bangs. The expression on her face morphed into something of distrust as Iris turned the other way and rushed off, letting the sole of her uggs drag along the tile floor.

"What's her problem?" Rachel said as she lifted herself. "Did you spit on her or something?"

"She must've realized I was taking you to the winter formal." His hand stroked the pretend stubble on his chin. "I wonder why."

His sort-of-friend rolled her eyes, grabbing the top of his right arm and pushing him the other way. "Probably jealous."

"No way." Beast Boy would've loved having two girls fawning over him—what an ego boost. But Garfield knew better than to assume Iris liked him and that Rachel wasn't giving him a pity date.

"Oh well, her loss," Rachel impassively said, trailing her fingers down his arm and entertaining them in between his fingers, "we're going to be late for English, Garfield." His hand flinched at the touch of hers, making her shake off the hold and instead cup the bottom of her textbooks. "I'll just wear red lipstick or something. At least you didn't choose a dinky tie colour like green."

" _Hey_!"

* * *

An alien zoomed back and forth from the gym and her bedroom, searching for a bottle of dry shampoo. Likewise, her date followed behind her, assuring between his somersaults that she looked great. A mechanical bee let out a rich laugh at the sight of the cyborg struggling to tie his navy blue tie. A flash of light whipped behind Garfield's face, then behind his ears, searching for his girlfriend's lost bracelet.

The smell of expensive perfume, floor polish, and smoke mixed with the squeaking of Victor's joints and the bellow of the speakers that blasted the Pussycat Doll's Wannabe formed into an intangible headache in Garfield's skull.

"I _fucking_ hate it here." He groaned, knocking the back of his neck against the backrest of the couch. "Why do they all gotta run around like that?"

"Be thankful Más and Menos aren't here," said the fish boy beside him, "and Jo. If she found out that Wally lost her grandmother's bracelet, she'd freak."

"That's kinda funny."

"What?"

"Jinx having a lucky bracelet."

"Hardee har har," Garth sarcastically replied, loosening his bow tie, "is the AC on?"

"Want me to drop you into the toilet bowl, fish sticks?"

"Who pushes a stick up your ass?" His friend—or frenemy—jabbed Garfield in the elbow. "Only Roy calls me that. You should probably stop hanging around him. Speaking of Roy, I haven't seen him around." Garth's eyes narrowed, scanning around the common room; not an inch or crevice escaped his eyes. As he turned around, a giant green thing leapt up at him, smacking him on the nose. "Get off, you dirty cat."

The feline fell back onto the couch, merging back into a human and cackling like a hyena. "I make a fine Cheshire, don't I?"

Garth spat out a chunk of green fur like a hairball while feeling around his face for any scratches. "Why are you always a _pussy_?"

"You're the second person today to call me that."

"You're jumping on your classmates?"

"No!" Garfield hushed Garth's yelling, anxious if Richard was eavesdropping. "A friend called me that because I didn't drink her shitty coffee."

"A her?" He raised an eyebrow. "You like girls right? Is she your date?"

"What, no! Just some girl from homeroom."

"You probably don't have a date then!"

"No, I have a date," Garfield sputtered, "no way I'm going stag to my first dance!"

"Who is she? Which class is she in? Hold on, I can probably find her Instagram." Before Garfield could stop him, Garth had his phone out, scrolling through his following list.

"Yeah, who is your date?" Richard raised an eyebrow, hair matted from running after Kori. "I forgot to ask."

Luckily, before he could interrogate the shapeshifter any longer, the intercom buzzed. Roy's voice yelled for Dick to open the door while Jade snickered in the background.

Garfield let out a giant sigh in relief, happy that the weight was off his shoulders. The sweat dripping down the collar of his dress shirt cooled down, letting his tense muscles relax back into the sofa.

"He must hate her or something, huh?"

"They all do."

"All of them? Even Kori?"

"She probably hates her the most."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I stopped writing for a few months to enjoy my summer break and now I have some nice inspiration. This chapter was purposely made shorter because the next few chapters might get really long.
> 
> -Catisa~Orsilla


	20. episode 19 - dimitris iv

"You ever think about what would happen if robots took over?" Garfield made desperate small talk, attempting to distract the confused Garth. "Like what if we were all just mass murdered by phones and shit?"

The prince sunk into the cushions of the sofa as he brushed a chunk of black hair out of his face. "Doubt it. Technology is so fruitful and has so much potential. There isn't anything like this back in Atlantis."

"But like what if robots and androids started revolting against humanity? It's totally possible. And I doubt you'd like tech as much if you knew what I knew."

"Garfield," Garth rolled his eyes and said, "weren't you the one who couldn't figure out how to change the time on the microwave just yesterday?"

"Why does Dick always gotta tell you everything? I'm gonna break his kneecaps the next chance I get."

"Well, I think it's rather nice of him to keep tabs on you like that. It's probably our only way of keeping tabs on you all." He chuckled to himself, probably thinking of something stupid Garfield did in the past. "So much has changed in a couple of years that it's hard to visit and not expect you to become someone else?"

"What do you mean, someone else?"

"Like how you're all different now. You're less—how do I put this—springy." Garth's eyes thinned like he was studying something on Garfield's face; blooming insecurity rose as Garfield assumed the worst.

"I don't have a mustache, right? I would look so stupid with a green mustache."

"No, you definitely don't have the testosterone for that." Garth grew silent as his companion snorted and looked the other way—hiding his bothered face.

Garth and Garfield never usually saw eye to eye. Back in the beginning years of the Teen Titans, it was just the scrawny shapeshifter, former member of the Doom Patrol, and a tall, dark, and mysterious fish from Atlantis. Beast Boy didn't see the handsome prince or rugged swimmer his teammates saw; Aqualad was just competition for Beast Boy's spot on his team. No matter how many times he'd watch Aqualad salute Robin and dive back into the ocean, there would always be an eerie fear that Beast Boy would be kicked to the curb sooner or later. It wasn't fair; Aqualad had a home under the crashing waves and a mentor to grow old with and replace—a threatening knife against Beast Boy's throat every time he felt himself crash into the salty ocean.

But as Garth prodded further with questions about Starfire, Garfield's chest steadied to the sound of discomfort and curiosity. Now he realized that Aqualad would never be what Beast Boy was to his team. The Atlantean was unreliable and had nothing holding him back; Garfield had nothing without Beast Boy and the Titans.

* * *

_"The robotic man grumbled under his breath, cursing the rugged stud's charm. Jealous? Perhaps. He was after the still human, held down by pitiful sins. As his grip tightened around the syringe, he neatly pierced the top. As a man of science, there was a manner he had while examining the strange antidote; his steady hands and clinical stare matched the room of monitors and machinery. Yes, he was one with the ship. Despite his cold exterior, he was a very nice friend, both giving and cautious. He always meant well and looked out for his devilishly handsome pal's back, even if it meant letting him off his shot!"_

_"Nice try, string bean!" Cyborg carefully gripped the syringe as he approached the screeching toucan. "Come on, BB. I'm not about to watch you kick some alien butts only to catch the flu."_

_"Fat chance! I bet needles get all weird up in space; Robin would never risk his strongest member." Suddenly, their ears twitched towards the sound of crunchy metal._

_As the strongest member of the team accidentally crushed the mini-fridge, Cyborg said, "Starfire could easily take you with a fell swoop, string bean." Their friend apologized cheekily before gently removing the dented soda cans and water bottles._

_"My apologies, dear friends. I am feeling a bit jittery and I do think the stress is beginning to get to me," she said softly._

_"No worries, Star," Cyborg said as he opened a can, "I wouldn't be jumping for joy if I had just escaped another arranged marriage-"_

_"-or found out my sister exiled my parents-"_

_"-or got kicked off the throne-"_

_"-not to mention, she also banished Starfire from ever returning to Tameran."_

_"Beast Boy, shut your mouth," another voice snapped as her book clattered onto the control panels and her chair swerved around, "you aren't helping."_

_"Oops."_

_Starfire waved a hand. "It is alright, Raven. I am not upset about my throne, or my arranged marriage, or my humiliation. These are superficial things to dwell upon."_

_Raven raised her voice as she placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Grief is a formidable emotion, Starfire. Like jubilance and curiosity, you must accept it. After all, you are only human," she cleared her throat, "alien."_

_"Yeah! And earth is so awesome, I bet you won't miss a thing." Beast Boy jumped into Starfire's arms as a kitten and nuzzled her chin. "Like your favourite mustard, National Geographic, thunderstorms, and rollercoasters!" Hopping into a flying squirrel, he grasped onto Raven's head._

_"Beast Bo-"_

_"And look! You have your friends. Me and Cy can play scrabble with you, and you can go shopping with Rae," he paused as she began swatting at his tail, "and you can plan your second date with Robin. You wouldn't be able to do that if you were in Tameran."_

_As trimmed nails gripped against the fur on his back, Beast Boy squealed as he was thrown into a hard metal chest. Cyborg chuckled and sat him on his sonic canon as their grumpy friend patted her hair down. "What BB is trying to say is you have another home, with us."_

_"While it is true that I do enjoy being on earth, I cannot help but wish I could still see Tameran. There isn't anything like it in this galaxy; full of lush plants, wonderful o'phofa that smell like fresh kamlor, and the rush of fighting against my fellow people," she sighed as her feet drifted to the ground, gently thumping against the metal, "there is nothing like the joy my people have when they see me, their princess, fighting. They rise from their seats and cheer, crying tears of joy and embracing their loved ones. Our stadium games are quite similar to Earth's soccer games except on Tameran, war is our blood. We are nothing without our armour, shields, and spears. That is why I accepted my exile. I know that my affiliation to Earth would not allow me to rule as passionately as my ancestors did. Although I do not agree with my sister's industrial approach, my people are happier knowing that their queen will lead them to many future victories."_

_Beast Boy peered at the metal man pretending to fiddle with some bandages. Cyborg's lips quivered as he tried to focus on his task at hand. The room grew increasingly cold as he watched Starfire prop her arms on the dashboard, staring longingly into the vast solar system._

_Suddenly, the shield of the ship began to lift upwards. Startled, Starfire got up from her seat and spun around to meet her teammate in the eye as the burning stars streamed white light into the cold ship, coating the desks, chairs, and controls with warmth._

_"You don't have to pretend you are okay with leaving Tameran. You are allowed to miss your home," Raven said as she stared down at the numerous keys and pads of the dash, "Tameran is a very beautiful planet."_

_"Raven, I-"_

_"No Starfire, listen." Beast Boy spun around the room slowly as he watched the hundreds of buttons and switches and screens that he'd never end up understanding. They glistened bright yellow as a shadowy fog began to creep around the room. He let out a small yelp as the fog lifted him upwards; he couldn't help but smile at the sight of his friend pretending to swim in the air as Raven's powers carried them about. "You may never learn to like living on earth if you don't acknowledge your grief. You may never learn to like living on earth at all. I don't think I will."_

_"But how do you deal with that, Raven? That disgusting feeling that resides in your abdomen: how do you continue to hold your head up high with it?"_

_"I don't know. But what I do know is that sometimes when I cannot deal with that feeling, I visit a mental capture of my home. It's destroyed, as that was the only time I've ever seen outside the palace walls, but it still brings me comfort to see that my home won't be going anywhere."_

_"But I cannot open portals like you, Raven."_

_"Then imagine Star. You can paint your room in the colours of your castle or grow some of your favourite flowers on the tower roof. Appreciate everything you have, whether physically or in memory before it is truly gone. Whatever it takes," she paused and sat back down, causing the objects in the room to float down as the seeping black fog returned under the cloak, "you can always ask me for anything."_

_Beast Boy never seen the alien's eyes shine so brightly. It could've been the fact that they were next to the sun, but he liked to think that there was something that changed that moment. He would never know what had shifted between the two, yet he had an eerie feeling as Starfire walked up beside her friend and placed a comforting hand on Raven's shoulder._

_"I do not have any more fear in my heart, my dear friend. Let us return_ home _."_

_He wanted to run-up to the dashboard and hug his teammates. Beast Boy wanted more than anything to see their tearfully happy faces and he would've been more than okay to get thrown across the room like a rabbit._

_A sensor beeped. A lithe hand scattered across the keyboards and a familiar face popped up on the monitor._

_"_ Robin _, turn away."_

_"How large are the comets?" The leader looked down at the screen from his pod at the very front of the spacecraft._

_"Not comets—too large. I sense the presence of hundreds, maybe even thousands. We will be under attack if we do not turn now."_

_He gulped and clutched to the arm of Cyborg. As a shadow was cast over his friend's work station, Beast Boy turned around just in time to read_ Dimitris IV _on the side of the alien ship._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking about writing a sequel to this after I am finished. I have a plot already written up. I may choose to write a full-blown second season or I might skimp on it and use the epilogue I have written up. Who knows? I'll try to get at least five more chapters by the end of this year. The slight delay between 18 and 19 was from an overwhelming amount of new projects I am working on.
> 
> -Catisa~Orsilla


	21. episode 20 - winter madness

Dancing was such a chore. That was what Rachel was probably thinking at that exact moment. Garfield could read the miffed stare she gave the disco ball, then the fake snow, then the DJ as she swayed her hips, legs rooted to the ground and arms tucked underneath her bust. The dim blue lights glittered of a winter madness that swept across the room but fell on her face like a blanket of fresh powder—icing sugar or some sort of weather phenomenon.

He wanted to take her hand and press it against his heart, to make her feel the steady thumping as he smiled at the sight of her bashfully looking for something in her purse. As he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pushed her against his moving body to the sound of sleigh bells and violas, the whistles of caroling students aroused the auditorium's attention to the herd of cheerleaders, all dressed in fluffy cuffs and earmuffs.

A mere second passed and he had already lost her to the overwhelming sight of Kori twirling her pom-poms and her fellow cheerleaders popping confetti crackers into the hooting crowd.

He hissed as the tip of his ears redden; he hadn't prepared to be confronted by the intruding sounds of thousands of students singing, stomping, and throwing root beer at each other. In a panic, he backed into a wall and thumped his foot against the floor, pressing his ear against the cold stone.

_Thump, thump, thump._

His ears buzzed with some sort of white noise as the entire world fell into some kind of slow motion. A chaperone laughed at the sight of a dancer falling off the stage. Two kids frantically signed at each other—probably to get away from this monstrosity. The stage lights were blinding and hot against the back of his neck when he rushed up the balcony stairs. Someone tripped on their heel as they ducked out if his way, making his eyes drift towards the confetti and ripped snowflakes on the stairs. When he tried looking up, it was more difficult to consume the scene as it choked him to see all the moving mouths and feel the vibrating floor with no sound.

Garfield gripped the railing between his thumb and fingers, rolling the muscles of his hands against the stiff metal; the pads of his fingers were probably numb from sweat and the chilly poles.

With his sharp eyes, he studied the ground below, counting the dozens of red and green dresses swishing against the multitude of dress shirts and tuxedoes with the occasional snowman suit dotted like cigarette butts on a dirty sidewalk. But as the lights faded and the clothes turned into specks of glitter, all that remained was a soup of sparkles and baby powder.

He didn't fret until he tasted the air and tasted sweat, smelled the room and smelled peppermint, and touched the back of his dress pant pocket to feel no phone.

_Shit._

He had given it earlier to Rachel for safekeeping. Curse his distrust with himself and small tangible objects.

Attempting to quell an internal thunder, he imagined her scratchy voice back at the cliff, husky and curt like the manner she carried when she stalked the halls of the tower. He tried to see her face as she ran down the mountain of rubble, knees barely scraping while he drowned his sanity in the salty pacific.

The tempest calmed and his sorrows were beached.

Garfield spun around slowly, finally taking in the capacity of the jubilant music, dancing teens, and colourful balloons. The fake cotton snow coating the walls made everything seem hazy, lessening the strain on his eyes. To be quite frank, the entire set was hideous; if he hadn't shut off his hearing, surely Garfield's senses would've knocked him off his feet. He could take a blaring screen of a TV, and the beeps and whistles of a video game, but not a high school dance full of too much of everything and not enough of nothing.

So for now, lip-reading would have to suffice.

When the corners of the giant room began to darken, he shuddered and closed his eyes, wanting to imagine some sort of bizarre dream or enter some kind of unconscious state; anything to get out of this dance. Suddenly, his eyelids peeled open and he swore he saw a silhouette lurking in the shadows of the balcony. Terrified, he stepped back, only to slip up on a smooth, flat object on the ground.

He crouched down robotically, determined not to pay mind to the haunting sight. The veins of palm leaves decorated the delicate compact that glimmered some sort of teal under the disco ball. Garfield selfishly tucked his stolen treasure into his breast pocket as a familiar pair of flats clambered against the stairs, alerting him of the intruder approaching.

She was most definitely upset over the mirror; it was written all over her furrowed brows, creased skirt, and clutched hands. But as she looked at him with blown eyes and flushed cheeks and mouthed something he couldn't hear, Garfield merely shrugged, resisting the urge to pat his pocket.

He trusted himself with small objects a lot more now. Although he wasn't sure why he kept the mirror from her, he reminded himself to tease her about his phone and offer a trade after the debacle.

* * *

"You know, the only reason I came to this stupid dance was because of Iris. She kinda tricked me into believing this was all pretty lights and chocolate cake. Even her friend North told me that they would have crowd surfing here—they're even part of the dance committee. A darn shame, I was really looking forward to climbing my way into your arms." He let out a laugh when he turned to see Rachel huffing and pushing his arm away. "Even though I can't hear shit because of this horrid music, I can still tell you want me."

"Shut up," she replied—or at least he _thought_ she replied.

"I noticed another thing. You aren't wearing red lipstick."

She rolled her eyes and jabbed his upper arm.

"How are you supposed to match my tie if you aren't wearing the lipstick?"

Her arm reached for her purse absentmindedly and she pulled out a tube of lipstick with a small sticker on the bottom, bright like the flickering lights on the Christmas tree in the corner of the dance floor.

"Well, what are you waiting for, mama? Put it on." She gave him a stare as she attempted to look around for something. Clicking his tongue, he slipped the mirror from his breast pocket. "Looking for this?"

As he held the mirror above her head, ready to tease her with it, Rachel jerked away from his body, arms still clenched to his shoulders. She looked odd, flailing about in his arms—not that he minded—and not pinching his nose. As she brought his face close to her own, he grinned at the sight of her lovely lips, matte and plump; they looked as if something red had been wiped off earlier. Garfield felt his back arch lower, subconsciously wanting to close the gap between them so bad until Rachel gripped his ears and her smooth voice grew scratchy as she yelled, "-octor Light!"

Ears ringing from the sudden noise, he felt his neck jerk as he watched the Municipal Chess Champions banner burn up in blue flames.

* * *

He panicked on the sidelines as _Starfire_ slammed against the gym floor, skin screeching on the wax. The stench of burning smoke began creeping behind him as the students wailed and then hushed as they all whispered, fearful that their noise will end their lives sooner. Garfield felt his dress pants bunch up behind his knees as he crouched, covering a few cheerleaders that were vulnerable to the growing flames with their fluffy and _flammable_ skirts. As one of their streamers began to light up and creep towards the group, a metal foot clamped down.

Garfield's jaw hung open as he watched another one of his teammates throw themselves at the bright Doctor Light. He heard gasps behind him as _Cyborg_ began launching sonic waves, temporarily throwing the doctor off his tracks.

He assumed his leader was out evacuating the students until a bird-rang clunked against the floor beside him, mauled up and glowing with heat on the edges.

_Just his luck._

Garfield was horrible with heatwaves and even worse with fire. The room full of blinding light and more students rushing in—he heard murmurs of the exits being blocked—nursed an ache in his skull as he wondered if that little girl he saw in his dreams would come by with her doll.

As the cheerleaders behind him backed away from the falling clump of streamers on the ground, he stumbled and was caught by two lithe arms.

Iris, in a fluorescent blue gown, cried behind him as she begged him to move away from the falling flames and debris. Another boy, someone from the basketball team, yanked his arm away and tried leading him to the back of the gymnasium where most of the students huddled, shuddering and panicking.

His eyes crept over the scene, spotting the girl who slammed the change room door in his face, the pair that had been whispering about him on the first day, a couple of football players Dick introduced to him, and a familiar face in a black evening gown. She ran towards him, hands gripping the sides of her skirt, as her lips remained motionless. Rachel hooked her arm over his own, yanking him away from Iris and her terrified friends.

Iris screamed back at his date, begging her to stop leading him to his death. She desperately clawed at his bicep, asking him to snap out of it before his body burned.

"Garfield, please!" Her corsage, ripped and crumpled, scraped against his wrist. "Don't be an idiot! Not now!"

He looked down at Rachel, shaking off the scared girl. A simple stare took over her face as reflections of growing fire bounced off the whites of her eyes. Garfield wished he could tell what she was thinking right before she grabbed for his jacket.

He didn't know what to say; he wasn't sure if he was okay with getting it on in the middle of a battle. "Rachel, this wasn't what I was thinking when I said I was cool with you taking off my shir-what are you doing?"

She fiddled with his remaining buttons and grabbed for his neck, completely nonchalant that she was undressing him in front of all his friends and the cowering school.

At last, she found the silver chained necklace and hastily fumbled with the lobster claw clasp until the cold chain slipped off his neck and his skin bled green.

The sight of Iris's eyes widening as her hands slipped from his arm and the boy backing away fell to the back of his head for all he could see were his teammates, Doctor Light, and the growing hearth that surrounded the fighting ring.

* * *

She was beginning to resemble a pest—an itch on his back, a tickle in his scalp. While the rest of the colony were in the back of the gym, she remained on the sidelines, crouched and clutching his jacket.

His attention was grabbed by greedy Doctor Light who exclaimed in glee, "Feel the light! Feel it creep up your necks, titans, until you can't feel it no more!"

Thankfully, Doctor Light's eyes were glued to Starfire who had been flying around frantically, searching for a vantage point that wasn't engulfed in flames. The warrior yelped at another clump of debris falling near her head as the villain crept closer, hands emitting white beams.

Beast Boy scampered around, squeaking occasionally at the specks of ash raining onto the ground as he wandered around the south of the gym, searching for familiar feet.

Pumps, sneakers, loafers, socks—questionable—flip flops, and another pair of high heels. Dodging a giant, fuzzy, white foot, he squeaked to himself about how it smelled of faint rubbing alcohol and fruit gushers before ramming nose-first into a metal toe.

"Knock it off, BB," Cyborg scolded as he lifted the critter by the tail.

Beast Boy squealed and skittered along his friend's arm, sliding carefully under the shifting metal plates and onto his shoulder where he clung as Cyborg dove to deflect a beam away from a shuddering teacher.

After checking his surroundings, the shapeshifter rolled back into a human, pulling out his beeping communicator. "Beast Boy, here."

"Is Cy there?" Beast Boy turned the camera towards Cyborg, who was dusting off his knees. "Good. So evacuation isn't possible." Beast Boy snorted. "Not funny, Beast Boy. The doors all seemed to be jammed. I assume the only working exit would be at the front, which isn't presently accessible. Don't attempt to regroup. There isn't anywhere safe to hide. The area is too small to fight and any damages to the building would surely risk the students." As Robin's face lit up a warm yellow, he exclaimed, "The fire is stationary! Most of it doesn't seem to be spreading, minus a few of the taller flames. Makes sense since I doubt Light is trying to raid a high school. This is most likely a stunt to get back into the HIVE. Strategically avoiding damage costs as the building is backed by a school board, Doctor Light has learned a thing or two from prison!"

"Did you hear?"

Cyborg nodded, scanning around the scene. His eyes thinned as his fingers danced around buttons on his arm, turning on a screen. "Doubt the HIVE would take him back for something this petty. A high school? What is he going to steal, the textbooks?"

"Dude, those are so expensive. Why do I have to pay a hundred bucks when I could just get the same thing online?" Beast Boy pinched the bridge of his nose as he remembered lugging around five textbooks before he realized he was supposed to keep them home. "He could take them for all I care."

"He won't get far trying to carry even a couple. And most of the books are pretty flammable." Cyborg grunted as his screen flickered. "Do you smell anything?"

"Just burning peppermint. A snowman suit. Maybe a few leftover cupcakes. I didn't get a chance to check out the buffet table."

"Feel feverish?"

Beast Boy sniffed his arm. "I'm a bit sweaty."

"Are you getting itchy?"

"Nope."

"That doesn't make much sense. The flames are white, most likely from burning magnesium sulfate-"

"Burning what?" Beast Boy interrupted.

"Epsom salt; Robin soaks in it sometimes. When it burns, the flame is white and pretty hot. I'd assume there would be more fumes from the size of the fire but nada." Clicking his teeth, Cyborg smirked triumphantly as he dashed towards a particularly bright flame and stomped on it, causing it to glitch before disappearing. "We don't fight many cautious villains."

"So it's all fake?" Beast Boy said, surprised. Running over to a large, orange flame, he gulped at the sight of the falling ash and radiating heat. Creeping towards the flame as a lion, he closed his eyes, terrified and sweating furiously.

"Well, I think there's a few real o-"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The feline began to howl as he shook his singed tail. He whimpered as he licked his tail gently, taming the burnt fur. "Could've warned me!"

Back in his human form, Beast Boy frantically checked for any burns as he pretended not to hear Cyborg snickering behind his back. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him to watch his teammates flanking the shivering fool, each clutching a starbolt or a fresh birdrang. As the cyborg began stalking towards the left, Beast Boy shifted into a quiet jaguar, retracting his claws as he prepared to cover the right.

Surely the doctor wouldn't be able to defend himself if he was surrounded. That was what Beast Boy thought before he heard someone scream, "Cover!" and felt the gym floor vibrate as his feet began to slip. His head whipped towards the sound of someone—most likely Starfire—being thrown over his head; Doctor Light had directed his beam downwards, risking damages to the school for his head. Diving towards a discarded snowman suit before Doctor Light shot another panicked beam, Beast Boy pulled his communicator out from his back pocket, hearing the gruff voice of his friend and the pitchy one of Light.

"Give it up Tin Can, your doohickeys and gadgets are no match for my pure light!"

Cyborg whispered into the microphone, "Cyborg to green bean, Cyborg to green bean, you alive?"

"Beast Boy to chrome dome, Beast Boy to chrome dome, unfortunately. Man, I hate this guy." He whimpered as he covered his eyes, hiding from the blinding light.

"Better than Plasmus. Anyw-" he grunted, "-ays, Light is unusually fast today. Something's definitely amplifying his powers; find it."

"Aye, aye." Slithering underneath the littered solo cups and candy bar wrappers, he made his way carefully through the snack bar and towards the wall. While he had originally planned to use the wall to navigate the stairs and find a vantage point perfect for an owl, he discovered a door, caught open by dozens of sparking wires.

Carefully leaping over the obstacle as a hare, Beast Boy huffed and wiped his brow, silently cursing the hot room. Under the bright flashlight of his communicator, Beast Boy observed a small plaque glued to the machinery reading _GENERATOR_.

"Cy, there's a ton of stuff connected to the generator in the back room. It's sweltering in here; I think it's being overworked."

Cyborg fuzzily responded, "Che— -he cords. He's pr—ably conn—t to one — them."

"I don't think I can touch them. They're like buzzing and sparking," he nervously said as he backed away from a sudden humming noise. "And there's like twenty things plugged here."

"Shit!" Something exploded in the background. "The fake snow is probably just unraveled cotton balls. Shove them in. I'll be there in a se-" The communicator buzzed.

Beast Boy grimaced as the sound of crunching metal echoed on the other side of the gymnasium. Likewise, he silently thanked the growing voices of the students as they began to panic again, attracting the attention of Doctor Light who looked like he had no clue what to do with them.

As a monkey, he began scooping up mounds of fluff, dashing back and forth as the generator continued to hum, crunch, and grind. At first, it appeared to have worked, until Beast Boy smacked his forehead, remembering that more light wasn't a good thing.

He scrambled out of the small room, fearing something might go wrong, only to come face to face with a room that glowed like the inside of a light bulb. Beast Boy noted that the light wasn't particularly harsh; while Doctor Light could easily stun anyone with it, this light was more gentle and comforting. He couldn't hear anything again. _Odd_. Picking up a shred of paper, he ripped it next to his ear, clearly hearing the ripping. Was he dead?

He opened his eyes to see the ethereal landscape morph into a shadowy pit of nothing and no one.

Beast Boy stepped forward.

Everything looked the same. Was he moving at all?

He heard the pest's voice again. It crept to his northwest and a more shrill scream came from the northeast. It cut off abruptly, making Beast Boy gulp as he wondered if he was next.

"Don't tell me you're still afraid of the dark?"

The limbs of shadow and smoke crept over his form, gently setting him down onto the floor as he drifted away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took an embarrassing amount of time to write. To be completely honest, I planned to make this chapter much, much shorter until I really got into the battle scene and had a lot of fun writing out Doctor Light's plans. I don't know if I'll ever write a scene like this again, but it certainly was fun. Perhaps in a future chapter, I can study another villain and think of another elaborate plan.
> 
> -Catisa~Orsilla

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder that this is cross posted on fanfiction.net under the name CatisaOrsilla. I’m still getting used to using this website so please bear with my formatting!


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